


Trash Vampire Novel: Lesbian Edition

by cadencaisuperspy



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 126,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadencaisuperspy/pseuds/cadencaisuperspy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie Meyer so graciously gave us gender-swapped Twilight, so the fandom exploded and made lesbian Twilight. This is my version of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all ownership and credit to Stephanie Meyer. I just mashed two of her works together; the vast majority of the words in here are hers. Also hella props to my beta reader. THANKS MICA.

I'd never given much thought to how I would die - though I'd had reason enough in the last few months - but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this.

I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me.

Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.

I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.

The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me.


	2. First Sight

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt - sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

It was to Forks that I now exiled myself- an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.

"Bella," my mom said to me - the last of a thousand times - before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."

My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still…

"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want -I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.

It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.

Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for highschool and was going to help me get a car.

But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision - like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen- just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too.Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me.

"You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face.

I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Bonnie Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"No."

"She used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.

That would explain why I didn't remember her. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.

"She's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so she can't drive anymore, and she offered to sell me her truck cheap."

"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask.

"Well, Bonnie's done a lot of work on the engine - it's only a few years old, really."

I hoped he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did she buy it?"

"She bought it in 1984, I think."

"Did she buy it new?"

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties - or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Ch - Dad, I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic..."

"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

The thing, I thought to myself... it had possibilities - as a nickname, at the very least.

"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

Wow. Free. "You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth - or engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled,embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for Conversation. We stared out the windows in silence.

It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green:the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.

It was too green - an alien planet.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had - the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new - well, new to me - truck. It was a faded red color,with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged -the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful. I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief's cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly,embarrassed again.

It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window -these were all a part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven - now fifty-eight - students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together - their grandparents had been toddlers together.

I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan,sporty, blond - a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps - all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun.

Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself - and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty - it was very clear, almost translucent-looking- but it all depended on color. I had no color here.

Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?

I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's. Those were embarrassing to look at - I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here.

It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket - which had the feel of a biohazard suit -and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Bonnie or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly,to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences,the metal detectors?

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show roe.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name - not an encouraging response - and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare,  Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything. That was comforting... and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I told him.

"You don't look very tan."

"My mother is part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three girls, one was super tall, even sitting down--her legs went on  _ forever _ . She looked like she might be captain of the volleyball team, and I was pretty sure you didn’t want to get in the way of her spikes. She had dark, curly hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Another girl was more statuesque.  She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back.

The last girl was in between their heights, with hair somewhere between red and brown, but different than either, kind of metallic somehow, a bronze-y color. She looked younger than the other two, who could been in college, easy.

The other two people were just as beautiful. One was of middling height and leanly muscular, almost rangy, with sharp cheekbones and honey-blond hair. There was something intense about them, edgy. The other was shorter, spritely, thin in the extreme, and with short black hair that stuck up in every direction.

And yet, all five were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes - purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this is not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful - maybe the perfect blonde girl, or the bronze-haired one.

They were all looking away - away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small one with black hair rose with their tray -unopened soda, unbitten apple - and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at their lithe steps, till they dumped their tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are they?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten.

As she looked up to see who I meant - though already knowing, probably, from my tone - suddenly she looked at us, the perfect bronze-haired one. She looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then her dark eyes flickered to mine.

She looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, her face held nothing of interest - it was as if my neighbor had called her name, and she'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edythe and Eleanor Cullen, and Rosalie and Jamie Hale. The one who left was Alex Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and her wife." She said this under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful bronze-haired girl, who was looking at her tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. Her mouth was moving very quickly, his full lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt she was speaking quietly to them.

Most of those were strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here - small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home.

"They are... very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though - Eleanor and Rosalie, and Jamie and Alex, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in her twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are twins - the blondes - and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jamie and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice - for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and her wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness.

Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in her expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that her glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the girl with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at her from the corner of my eye, and she was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today - she had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edythe. She's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. She doesn't date. Apparently no one here is good-looking enough for her." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered if Edith had turned her down, or if too many of the boys she had gone for had gone for Edith.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at Edith again. Her face was turned away, but I thought her cheek appeared lifted, as if she were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edith didn't look at me again.

I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour.  We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edith Cullen by her unusual metallic hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching her surreptitiously. Just as I passed, she suddenly went rigid in her seat. She stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on her face - it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled.

I'd noticed that her eyes were black - coal black.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by Edith, bewildered by the antagonistic stare she'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw her posture change from the corner of my eye. She was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of her chair and averting her face like she smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange girl next to me. During the whole class, she never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of her chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see her hand on her left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under her pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. She had the long sleeves of her white henley pushed up to her elbows, and her forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath her light skin. I couldn’t help but notice how perfect that skin was. Not one freckle, not one scar.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for her tight fist to loosen? It never did; she continued to sit so still it looked like she wasn't breathing. What was wrong with her? Was this her normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe Jessica was not as resentful as I'd thought.

It couldn't have anything to do with me. She didn't know me from Eve.

Mr. Banner passed some quizzes back when the class was almost done. He handed one to me to give to the girl. I glanced at the top automatically--one hundred percent...and I’d been spelling her name wrong in my head. It was Edythe, not Edith. I’d never seen it spelled that way, but it fit her better.

I peeked over at her one more time, and then instantly regretted it. She was glaring over at me again, her black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from her, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if  _ looks could kill _ suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edythe Cullen was out of her seat. She moved like a dancer, every perfect line of her slim body in harmony with all the others, her back to me, and she was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after her. She was so harsh. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad.

"Bella," I corrected him, with a polite smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer - he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edythe Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen her act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edythe Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the girl I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," he said. "She looked like she was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to her."

"She’s a weird." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of RE. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained - and inflicted - playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.

When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Edythe Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. Impossible not to recognize her tangled bronze hair. She didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

She was arguing with the receptionist in a low, velvety voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. She was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time - any other time.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on her face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edythe Cullen's back stiffened, and she turned slowly to glare at me - her face was absurdly perfect, not even one tiny flaw to maker her seem human - with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. She turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," she said quickly in a voice like silk. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And she turned on her heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.


	3. Open Book

The next day was better... and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while; that was nattering. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I now remembered. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep with the wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. And it was worse because Edythe Cullen wasn't in school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing her bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront her and demand to know what her problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the Cowardly Lion look like the terminator. Maybe if she hadn’t been so stunningly beautiful.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica - trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for her, and failing entirely - I saw that her four adopted siblings were sitting together at the same table, and she was not with them.

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for Edythe’s arrival. I hoped that she would simply ignore me when she came, and prove that I was making a big deal out of nothing.

She didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, she still hadn't showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edythe Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Edythe was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason she wasn't there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying about it.

When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to the Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before - I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any popularity here.

No, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation had to be something they chose; I couldn't imagine any door their beauty wouldn’t open for them.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. Except they weren’t anything like anyone else. I saw the really tall, dark-haired girl--Eleanor, it must be. Anyway, Eleanor had her hand casually on the hip of the statuesque, blonde girl, who looked like she was just as familiar with the weight room as Eleanor was. Though she was obviously pretty sure of herself, I was still kind of surprised she felt comfortable doing that. Not that the other girl--Rosalie, probably--wasn’t attractive, because she was stunning a way a supermodel would envy, but she wasn’t...approachable. Like, not even Diane The Rock Johnson would dare whistle at her, if you know what I mean. The blonde girl--Rosalie--caught me looking, and the way her eyes narrowed made me turn straight ahead and punch the gas. The truck didn’t go any faster, the engine just grumbled even louder.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a pony-tail, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages.

"Bella," my mom wrote...

_ Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom. _

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

"Bella," she wrote...

_ Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom. _

The last was from this morning.

_ Isabella,  
_ _ If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today I'm calling Charlie. _

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.

_ Mom,  
_ _ Calm down. I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash. Bella. _

I sent that, and began again.

_ Mom,  
_ _ Everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch. _

_ Your blouse is at the dry cleaners - you were supposed to pick it up Friday. _

_ Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It's old, but really sturdy, which is good, you know, for me. _

_ I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but I'm not going to check my e-mail every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you. Bella. _

I had decided to read Wuthering Heights - the novel we were currently studying in English - yet again for the fun of it, and that's what I was doing when Charlie came home. I'd lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

"Bella?" my father called out when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself.

"Hey, Dad, welcome home."

"Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

"What's for dinner?" he asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren't always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered, and he looked relieved.

He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

"Smells good, Bell."

"Thanks."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together.

"So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?" he asked as he was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." With one outstanding exception.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid - nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great woman."

"They... the kids... are a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

Charlie surprised me by looking angry.

"People in this town," he muttered. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary she gets here," he continued, getting louder. "We're lucky to have her - lucky that her wife wanted to live in a small town. She's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature - I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should - camping trips every other weekend.... Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

It was the longest speech I'd ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.

I backpedaled. "They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They're all very attractive," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Charlie said, laughing. "It's a good thing she's happily married. A lot of the hospital staff have a hard time concentrating on their work with her around."

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand - no dishwasher - I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.

Edythe Cullen didn't come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without her. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edythe would be there. For all I knew, she had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about her, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful e-mails. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a card; I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got... and shuddered at the thought.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights. It was straightforward, very easy.

All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.

"Wow," Mike said. "It's snowing."

I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.

"Ew." Snow. There went my good day.

He looked surprised. "Don't you like snow?"

"No. That means it's too cold for rain." Obviously. "Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes - you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" he asked incredulously.

"Sure I have." I paused. "On TV."

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us - in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside."

He just nodded, his eyes on Eric's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain - until it melted in your socks.

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Jessica pulled on my arm.

"Hello? Bella? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious,

I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with Bella?" Mike asked Jessica.

"Nothing," I answered. "I'll just get a soda today." I caught up to the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour. Ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away. I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family's table. If she was glaring at me, I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little. They were laughing. Edythe, Jamie, and Eleanor all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alex and Rosalie were leaning away as Eleanor shook her dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else - only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edythe the most carefully. Her skin was less pale, I decided - flushed from the snow fight maybe - the circles under her eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

"Bella, what are you staring at?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, Edythe’s eyes flashed over to meet mine. I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that she didn't look harsh or unfriendly as she had the last time I'd seen her. She looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

"Edythe Cullen is staring at you," Jessica giggled in my ear.

"She doesn't look angry, does she?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," she said, sounding confused by my question. "Should she be?"

"I don't think she likes me," I confided. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

"The Cullens don't like anybody... well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But she's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at her," I hissed.

She snickered, but she looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, contemplating violence if she resisted.

Mike interrupted us then - he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since she didn't look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to her again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual - he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers - but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that she was speaking to me. She was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but her chair was angled toward me. Her hair was dripping wet, tangled - even so, she looked like she'd just finished shooting a commercial. Her dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on her full, pink lips. But her eyes were careful.

"My name is Edythe Cullen," she continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? She was perfectly polite now. I had to say something; she was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything normal to say.

"H-how do you know my name?" I stammered.

She laughed a softly. "Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town's been waiting for you to arrive."

I grimaced. I knew it was something like that.

"No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Bella?"

She seemed confused. "Do you prefer Isabella?"

"No, I like Bella," I said. "But I think Charlie - I mean my dad - must call me Isabella behind my back - that's what everyone here seems to know me as," I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.

"Oh." She let it drop. I looked away awkwardly.

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"You first, partner?" Edythe asked. I looked up to see her smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at her like an idiot.

"Or I could start, if you wish." She raised her eyebrows.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll go ahead."

I saw her eyes flash to the blush blooming across my cheeks. Why couldn’t my blood just stay in my veins where it belonged? 

She looked away sharply as I pulled the microscope toward me. I was showing off, just a little. I'd already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

My assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" She asked as I began to remove the slide. Her hand caught mine, to stop me, as she asked. Her fingers were ice-cold, like she'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When she touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, pulling her hand back immediately. However, she continued to reach for the microscope. I watched her, still staggered, as she examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.

"Prophase," she agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. She swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," she murmured, writing it down as she spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"

She smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, she was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking at her.

She handed it to me; it seemed like she was being careful not to touch my skin again.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed her the microscope before she could ask for it. She took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while she looked, but her clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn't want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl.

I tried to exchange slides for the next one, but they were too small or my fingers were too big, and I ended up dropping both. One fell on the table and the other over the edge, but Edythe caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Ugh,” I exhaled, mortified. “Sorry.”

“Well, the last is no mystery, regardless,” she said. Her tone was right on the edge of laughter. Butt of the joke again. Edythe calligraphed  _ Telophase _ onto the last line of the worksheet.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table.

Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at her...unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and she was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in her eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in her face.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out unthinkingly.

She seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of her eyes the last time she'd glared at me - the color was striking against the background of her pale skin and auburn hair. Today, her eyes were a completely different color: a strange ochre, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how that could be, unless she was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. Her hands were clenched into fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edythe, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Bella," Edythe corrected automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Banner nodded. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yes."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edythe asked. I had the feeling that she was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like she had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," she mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

She looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. Her face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.

"Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that - not straight out like she did, demanding.

"It's... complicated."

"I think I can keep up," she pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting her gaze. Her dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," she disagreed, but her voice was suddenly softer. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." My voice sounded sad, even to me.

"And you don't like him," Edythe surmised, her tone still kind.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I couldn't fathom her interest, but she continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smiled.

"Have I heard of him?" she asked, smiling in response.

"Probably not. He doesn't play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." She said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction. "No, she did not send me here. I sent myself."

Her eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," she admitted, and she seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this to her? She stared at me, waiting.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy... so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." My voice was glum by the time I finished.

"But now you're unhappy," she pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." She shrugged, but her eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I have heard that somewhere before," she agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why she was still staring at me that way.

Her gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," she said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I grimaced at her, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away.

"Am I wrong?"

I tried to ignore her.

"I didn't think so," she murmured smugly.

"Why does it matter to you?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

"That's a very good question," she muttered, so quietly that I wondered if she was talking to herself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

It was awkward, just looking at each other, but she didn’t look away. I wanted to keep staring at her face, but I was afraid she was wondering what was wondering what was wrong with me for staring so much, so finally I sighed and turned toward the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" she asked. She sounded amused.

I glanced at her without thinking...and told the truth again. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read - my mother always calls me her open book." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and she'd guessed, she sounded like she meant it.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied.

"Usually." She smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth along with her dimples.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I felt dizzy in a strange way. Had I really just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful girl who may or may not despise me? She'd seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that she was leaning away from me again, her hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable.

When the bell finally rang, Edythe rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as she had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after her in amazement.

Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined him with a wagging tail.

"That was awful," he groaned. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Edythe for a partner."

"I didn't have any trouble with it," I said, stung by his assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. "I've done the lab before, though," I added before he could get his feelings hurt.

"She seemed friendly enough today," he commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. He didn't seem pleased about it.

I tried to sound indifferent. "I wonder what was with her last Monday."

I couldn't concentrate on Mike's chatter as we walked to Gym, and PE. didn't do much to hold my attention, either. Mike was on my team today. He chivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around me to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Edythe Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. The smile was gone, but at least so was the murder--for now, anyway. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw her laughing.


	4. Phenomenon

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

It was the light. It was still the gray-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no fog veiling my window.

I jumped up to look outside, and then groaned in horror.

A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of my truck, and whitened the road. But that wasn't the worst part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid - coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a deadly ice slick. I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry; it might be safer for me to go back to bed now.

Charlie had left for work before I got downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself enjoying the space rather than feeling lonely.

I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some orange juice from the carton. I felt excited to go to school, and that scared me. I knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Edythe Cullen. And that was very, very stupid.

I should be avoiding her entirely after my brainless and embarrassing babbling yesterday. And I was suspicious of her; why should she lie about her eyes? I was still frightened of the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from her, and I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured her perfect face. I was well aware that my league and her league were spheres that did not touch. Spending more time looking at her--watching her lips move, marveling at her skin, listening to her voice--was certainly not going to help with that. So I shouldn't be at all excited to see her today.

But I was.

It took every ounce of my concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. I almost lost my balance when I finally got to the truck, but I managed to cling to the side mirror and save myself. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish.

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of falling and my unwanted speculations about Edythe Cullen by thinking about Mike and Eric, and the obvious difference in how teenage boys responded to me here. I was sure I looked exactly the same as I had in Phoenix. Maybe it was just that the kids back home had watched me pass slowly through all the awkward phases of adolescence and still thought of me that way. Perhaps it was because I was a novelty here, where novelties were few and far between. Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress. Whatever the reason, Mike's puppy dog behavior and Eric's apparent rivalry with him were disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I didn't prefer being ignored.

My truck seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street.

When I got out of my truck at school, I saw why I'd had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck - carefully holding the side for support - to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck. My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn't used to being taken care of, and Charlie's unspoken concern caught me by surprise.

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound.

It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once.

Edythe Cullen was standing four cars down from me, mouth open in horror. Her face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. Also, a dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing between them. I didn't even have time to close my eyes.

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I'd parked next to. But I didn't have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me  _ again _ .

A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two thin, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, Edythe’s pale hands fitting exactly into a deep dent in the side of the van's body.

Then her hands moved so fast they blurred. One was suddenly under the body of the van, and the other was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag doll's, until they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud pounded my ears, and the van settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt - exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been.

It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. In the abrupt bedlam, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edythe Cullen's low, frantic voice in my ear.

"Bella? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up, and realized she was holding me against the side of her body in an iron grasp.

"Be careful," she warned as I struggled. "I think you hit your head pretty hard."

I became aware of a throbbing ache centered above my left ear.

"Ow," I said, surprised.

"That's what I thought." Nothing seemed funny to me, but it sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

"How in the..." I trailed off, trying to clear my head, get my bearings. "How did you get over here so fast?"

"I was standing right next to you, Bella," she said, her voice suddenly serious again.

I turned to sit up, and this time she let me, releasing her hold around my waist and then sliding as far from me as she could in the limited space. I looked at her concerned, innocent expression and was disoriented again by the force of her gold-colored eyes. What was I asking her?

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

"Don't move," someone instructed.

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone else shouted.

There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Edythe's cold hand pushed my shoulder down.

"Just stay put for now."

"But it's cold," I complained. It surprised me when she chuckled under her breath. There was an edge to the sound.

"You were over there," I suddenly remembered, and her laugh stopped short. "You were by your car."

Her expression was hard now. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you." All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene. But I obstinately held on to our argument; I was right, and she was going to admit it.

"Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way." She stared at me, and something strange happened. It was like the gold of her eyes turned up, like her eyes were drugging me, hypnotizing me. It was devastating in a weird, exciting way. But her expression was anxious. I thought she was trying to communicate something crucial.

“But that’s not what happened,” I said weakly.

The gold in her eyes blazed again. "Please, Bella."

"Why?" I asked.

"Trust me," she pleaded, her soft voice excruciating.

I could hear the sirens now. "Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"

"Fine," she snapped, abruptly exasperated, the molten gold of her eyes imperceptibly dimming.

"Fine," I repeated, annoyed.

It took six EMTs and two teachers - Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp - to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edythe vehemently refused hers, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I'd hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edythe got to ride in the front. It was maddening.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived before they could get me safely away.

"Bella!" he yelled in panic when he recognized me on the stretcher.

"I'm completely fine, Char - Dad," I sighed. "There's nothing wrong with me."

He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head. When they'd lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car's bumper - a very distinct dent that fit the slim shape of Edythe's shoulders... as if she had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame...

And then there was her family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their sister's safety.

I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen - a solution that excluded the assumption that I was insane.

Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Edythe simply glided through the hospital doors under her own power. I ground my teeth together.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided I wasn't obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro and threw it under the bed.

There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. I recognized Tyler Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looked a hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me.

"Bella, I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine, Tyler - you look awful, are you all right?" As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.

He ignored me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong..." He winced as one nurse started dabbing at his face.

"Don't worry about it; you missed me."

"How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone..."

"Umm... Edythe shoved me out of the way."

He looked confused. "Who?"

"Edythe Cullen - she was standing next to me." I'd always been a terrible liar; I didn't sound convincing at all.

"Edythe? I didn't see her... wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is she okay?"

"I think so. She's here somewhere, but they didn't make her use a stretcher."

I knew I wasn't crazy. What had happened? There was no way to explain away what I'd seen.

They wheeled me away then, to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER, waiting, harassed by Tyler's constant apologies and promises to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I was fine, he continued to torment himself. Finally, I closed my eyes and ignored him. He kept up a remorseful mumbling.

"Is she sleeping?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open.

Edythe was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I glared at her, trying to put the pieces together in my head. She didn’t  _ look _ like someone who could stop attacking vehicles with her bare hands. But then, she didn’t look like anyone I’d ever seen before.

"Hey, Edythe, I'm really sorry -" Tyler began.

Edythe lifted a hand to stop him.

"No blood, no foul," she said, flashing her brilliant white teeth. She moved to sit on the edge of Tyler's bed, facing me. She smirked again.

"So, what's the verdict?" she asked me.

"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go," I complained. "How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," she answered. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. She was young, she was blond...and she was more beautiful than any movie star I’d ever seen. Like someone sliced up Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and Marilyn Monroe, took the best parts, and glued them together to form one goddess. She was pale, though, and tired-looking, with circles under her dark eyes. From Charlie’s description, this had to be Edythe’s mom.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen said in a remarkably appealing voice, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said, for the last time, I hoped.

She walked to the lightboard on the wall over my head, and turned it on.

"Your X-rays look good," she said. "Does your head hurt? Edythe said you hit it pretty hard."

"It's fine," I repeated with a sigh, throwing a quick scowl toward Edythe, who looked away.

The doctor's cool fingers probed lightly along my skull. She noticed when I winced.

"Tender?" she asked.

"Not really." I'd had worse.

I heard a low laugh, and looked over to see Edythe's wide smile. My eyes narrowed.

"Well, your father is in the waiting room - you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."

"Can't I go back to school?" I asked, imagining Charlie trying to be attentive.

"Maybe you should take it easy today."

I glanced at Edythe. "Does she get to go to school?"

"Someone has to spread the good news that we survived," Edythe said smugly.

"Actually," Dr. Cullen corrected, "most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."

"Oh no," I moaned, covering my face with my hands.

Dr. Cullen raised her eyebrows. "Do you want to stay?"

"No, no!" I insisted, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and hopping down quickly. Too quickly - I staggered, and Dr. Cullen caught me with strong hands. She looked concerned.

"I'm fine," I assured her again. No need to tell the doctor my balance problems had nothing to do with hitting my head.

"Take some Tylenol for the pain," she suggested as she steadied me.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," I insisted.

"It sounds like you were extremely lucky," Dr. Cullen said, smiling as she signed my chart with a flourish.

"Lucky Edythe happened to be standing next to me," I amended with a hard glance at the subject of my statement.

"Oh, well, yes," Dr. Cullen agreed, suddenly occupied with the papers in front of her. Then she looked away, at Tyler, and walked to the next bed. My intuition flickered; the doctor was in on it.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to stay with us just a little bit longer," she said to Tyler, and began checking his cuts.

As soon as the doctor's back was turned, I moved to Edythe's side.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I hissed under my breath. She took a step back from me, her jaw suddenly clenched.

"Your father is waiting for you," she said through her teeth.

I glanced at Dr. Cullen and Tyler.

"I'd like to speak with you alone, if you don't mind," I pressed.

She glared, and then turned her back and strode down the long room. I nearly had to run to keep up. As soon as we turned the corner into a short hallway, she spun around to face me.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding annoyed. Her eyes were cold.

Her unfriendliness intimidated me. My words came out with less certainty than I'd intended. "You owe me an explanation," I reminded her.

"I saved your life - I don't owe you anything."

I flinched back from the resentment in her voice. "You promised."

"Bella, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about." Her tone was cutting.

My temper flared now, and I glared defiantly at her. "There's nothing wrong with my head."

She turned up the heat of her glare. "What do you want from me, Bella?"

"I want to know the truth," I said. "I want to know why I'm lying for you."

"What do you  _ think _ happened?" he snapped.

It came out in a rush.

"All I know is that you weren't anywhere near me - Tyler didn't see you, either, so don't tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us both - and it didn't, and your hands left dents in the side of it - and you left a dent in the other car, and you're not hurt at all - and the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up..." I could hear how crazy it sounded, and I couldn't continue. I was so mad I could feel the tears coming; I tried to force them back by grinding my teeth together.

She was staring at me, her eyes wide and incredulous. But she couldn’t entirely hide the tension, the defensiveness.

"You think I lifted a van off you?" Her tone questioned my sanity, but there was something off. It was like a line delivered by a skilled actor--so hard to doubt, but at the same time, the frame of the movie screen reminded you nothing was actually real.

I just nodded once.

She smiled, hard and mocking. "Nobody will believe that, you know." 

"I'm not going to tell anybody." I said each word slowly, carefully controlling my outrage.

Surprise flitted across her face, and the mocking smile faded. "Then why does it matter?"

"It matters to me," I insisted. "I don't like to lie - so there'd better be a good reason why I'm doing it."

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?"

"Thank you," I said, then folded my arms, fuming and expectant.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"No."

"In that case...I hope you enjoy disappointment."

We scowled at each other in silence. My thoughts were scattered by how beautiful her anger was. I was the first to speak, trying to keep myself focused. I was in danger of being distracted by her livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.

"Why did you even bother?" I asked frigidly.

She paused, and for a brief moment her perfect face was unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I don't know," she whispered.

And then she turned her back on me and walked away.

I was so angry, it took me a few minutes until I could move. When I could walk, I made my way slowly to the exit at the end of the hallway.

The waiting room was more unpleasant than I'd feared. It seemed like every face I knew in Forks was there, staring at me. Charlie rushed to my side; I put up my hands.

"There's nothing wrong with me," I assured him sullenly. I was still aggravated, not in the mood for chitchat.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Dr. Cullen saw me, and she said I was fine and I could go home." I sighed. Mike and Jessica and Eric were all there, beginning to converge on us. "Let's go," I urged.

Charlie put one arm behind my back, not quite touching me, and led me to the glass doors of the exit. I waved sheepishly at my friends, hoping to convey that they didn't need to worry anymore. It was a huge relief- the first time I'd ever felt that way - to get into the cruiser.

We drove in silence. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I barely knew Charlie was there. I was positive that Edythe's defensive behavior in the hall was a confirmation of the bizarre things I still could hardly believe I'd witnessed.

When we got to the house, Charlie finally spoke.

"Um... you'll need to call Renée." He hung his head, guilty.

I was appalled. "You told Mom!"

"Sorry."

I slammed the cruiser's door a little harder than necessary on my way out.

My mom was in hysterics, of course. I had to tell her I felt fine at least thirty times before she would calm down. She begged me to come home - forgetting the fact that home was empty at the moment - but her pleas were easier to resist than I would have thought. I was consumed by the mystery Edythe presented. And more than a little obsessed by Edythe himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I wasn't as eager to escape Forks as I should be, as any normal, sane person would be.

I decided I might as well go to bed early that night. Charlie continued to watch me anxiously, and it was getting on my nerves. I stopped on my way to grab three Tylenol from the bathroom. They did help, and, as the pain eased, I drifted to sleep.

That was the first night I dreamed of Edythe Cullen.


	5. Invitations

In my dream it was very dark, and what dim light there was seemed to be radiating from Edythe's skin. I couldn't see her face, just her back as she walked away from me, leaving me in the blackness. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't catch up to her; no matter how loud I called, she never turned. Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, she was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the periphery, never within reach.

The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing.

To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of that week. Tyler Crowley was impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince him what I wanted more than anything else was for him to forget all about it - especially since nothing had actually happened to me - but he remained insistent. He followed me between classes and sat at our now-crowded lunch table. Mike and Eric were even less friendly toward him than they were to each other, which made me worry that I'd gained another unwelcome fan.

No one seemed concerned about Edythe--no one followed her around or asked her for eyewitness accounts, though I explained over and over that she was the hero - how she had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed, too. I tried to be convincing. Jessica, Mike, Eric, and everyone else always commented that they hadn't even seen her there till the van was pulled away.

I wondered to myself why no one else had seen her standing so far away, before she was suddenly and impossibly saving my life. With chagrin, I realized the probable cause - no one else was as aware of Edythe as I always was. No one else watched her the way I did. How pitiful.

People avoided Edythe the same way they usually did. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, not eating, talking only amongst themselves. None of them, especially Edythe, glanced my way anymore.

When Edythe sat next to me in class, as far from me as the table would allow like usual, she seemed totally unaware of my presence. Only now and then, when her fists would suddenly ball up - skin stretched even whiter over the bones - did I wonder if she wasn't quite as oblivious as she seemed.

I wanted very much to talk to her, and the day after the accident I tried. The last time I'd seen her, outside the ER, we'd both been so furious. I still was angry that she wouldn't trust me with the truth, even though I was keeping my part of the bargain flawlessly. But she had in fact saved my life, no matter how she'd done it. And, overnight, the heat of my anger faded into awed gratitude.

She was already seated when I got to Biology, looking straight ahead. I sat down, expecting her to turn toward me. She showed no sign that she realized I was there.

"Hello, Edythe," I said pleasantly, to show her I was going to behave myself.

She turned her head a fraction of an inch toward me without meeting my gaze, nodded once, and then looked the other way.

And that was the last contact I'd had with her, though she was there, a foot away from me, every day. I watched her sometimes, unable to stop myself- from a distance, though, in the cafeteria or parking lot. I watched as her golden eyes grew perceptibly darker day by day. But in class I gave no more notice that she existed than she showed toward me. I was miserable. And the dreams continued.

Edythe wished she hadn't pulled me from the path of Tyler's van - there was no other conclusion I could come to. Since she obviously preferred me dead, she was pretending I was.

Despite my outright lies, the tenor of my e-mails alerted Renée to my depression, and she called a few times, worried. I tried to convince her it was just the weather that had me down.

Mike, at least, was pleased by the obvious coolness between me and my lab partner. I could see he'd been worried that Edythe's daring rescue might have impressed me, and he was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. He grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before Biology class started, ignoring Edythe as completely as she ignored us.

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed he'd never gotten to stage his snowball fight, but pleased that the beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, though, and the weeks passed.

Jessica made me aware of another event looming on the horizon - she called the first Tuesday of March to ask my permission to invite Mike to the girls' choice spring dance in two weeks.

"Are you sure you don't mind... you weren't planning to ask him?" she persisted when I told her I didn't mind in the least.

"No, Jess, I'm not going," I assured her. Dancing was glaringly outside my range of abilities.

"It will be really fun." Her attempt to convince me was halfhearted. I suspected that Jessica enjoyed my inexplicable popularity more than my actual company.

"You have fun with Mike," I encouraged.

The next day, I was surprised that Jessica wasn't her usual gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes, and I was afraid to ask her why. If Mike had turned her down, I was the last person she would want to tell.

My fears were strengthened during lunch when Jessica sat as far from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike was unusually quiet.

Mike was still quiet as he walked me to class, the uncomfortable look on his face a bad sign. But he didn't broach the subject until I was in my seat and he was perched on my desk. As always, I was electrically aware of Edythe sitting close enough to touch, as distant as if she were merely an invention of my imagination.

"So," Mike said, looking at the floor, "Jessica asked me to the spring dance."

"That's great." I made my voice bright and enthusiastic. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica."

"Well..." He floundered as he examined my smile, clearly not happy with my response. "I told her I had to think about it."

"Why would you do that?" I let disapproval color my tone, though I was relieved he hadn't given her an absolute no.

His face was bright red as he looked down again. Pity shook my resolve.

"I was wondering if... well, if you might be planning to ask me."

I paused for a moment, hating the wave of guilt that swept through me. But I saw, from the corner of my eye, Edythe's head tilt reflexively in my direction.

"Mike, I think you should tell her yes," I said.

"Did you already ask someone?" Did Edythe notice how Mike's eyes flickered in her direction?

"No," I assured him. "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why not?" Mike demanded.

I didn't want to get into the safety hazards that dancing presented, so I quickly made new plans.

"I'm going to Seattle that Saturday," I explained. I needed to get out of town anyway - it was suddenly the perfect time to go.

"Can't you go some other weekend?"

"Sorry, no," I said. "So you shouldn't make Jess wait any longer - it's rude."

"Yeah, you're right," he mumbled, and turned, dejected, to walk back to his seat. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push the guilt and sympathy out of my head. Mr. Banner began talking. I sighed and opened my eyes.

And Edythe was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in her black eyes.

I stared back, surprised, expecting her to look quickly away. She didn’t. Her eyes kept boring into mine, like she was trying to find something really important inside them. I continued to stare also, totally unable to break the connection, even if I wanted to. My hands started to shake.

"Miss Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I hadn't heard.

"The Krebs Cycle," Edythe answered, seeming reluctant as she turned to look at Mr. Banner.

I looked down at my book as soon as her eyes released me, trying to find my place. Cowardly as ever, I shifted my hair over my right shoulder to hide my face. I couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me - just because she'd happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn't allow her to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.

I tried very hard not to be aware of her for the rest of the hour, and, since that was impossible, at least not to let her know that I was aware of her. When the bell rang at last, I turned my back to her to gather my things, expecting her to leave immediately as usual.

"Bella?" Her musical voice shouldn't have been so familiar to me, as if I'd known the sound of it all my life rather than for just a few short weeks.

I turned slowly, unwillingly. I didn't want to feel what I knew I would feel when I looked at her too-perfect face. My expression was wary when I finally turned to her, and her expression was unreadable. She didn't say anything.

"What? Are you speaking to me again?" I finally asked, an unintentional note of petulance in my voice.

Her lips twitched, fighting a smile, and her dimples flashed into view. "No, not really," she admitted.

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, aware that I was gritting my teeth. She waited.

"Then what do you want, Edythe?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed; it was easier to talk to her coherently that way.

"I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really."

I opened my eyes. Her face was very serious.

"I don't know what you mean," I said, my voice guarded.

"It's better if we're not friends," she explained. "Trust me."

My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that one before.

She seemed surprised by my reaction. “What are you thinking” she asked.

"It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I hissed through my teeth. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" The word, and my tone, obviously caught her off guard. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

She looked completely shocked. She stared at me for a minute, wide-eyed, and when she finally spoke she sounded almost sounded mad. "You think I regret saving your life?" The words were quiet, just under her breath, but intense nonetheless. 

"I know you do," I snapped.

She made the strangest sound--she exhaled through her teeth and it was like a  _ hiss _ . She still looked mad.

“You’re an idiot,” she told me.

I turned my head sharply away from her, clenching my jaw against all the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at her. I gathered my books together, then stood and walked to the door. I meant to sweep dramatically out of the room, but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the door jamb and dropped my books. I stood there for a moment, thinking about leaving them. Then I sighed and bent to pick them up. Edythe was already there; she'd already stacked them into a pile. She handed them to me, her face hard.

"Thank you," I said icily.

Her eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome," she retorted.

I straightened up swiftly, turned away from her again, and stalked off to Gym without looking back.

Gym was brutal. We'd moved on to basketball. My team never passed me the ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. Sometimes I took people with me. Today I was worse than usual because my head was so filled with Edythe. I tried to concentrate on my feet, but she kept creeping back into my thoughts just when I really needed my balance.

It was a relief, as always, to leave. I almost ran to the truck; there were just so many people I wanted to avoid. The truck had suffered only minimal damage in the accident. I'd had to replace the taillights, and if I'd had a real paint job, I would have touched that up. Tyler's parents had to sell their van for parts.

I almost had a stroke when I rounded the corner and saw a figure leaning against the side of my truck. Then I realized it was just Eric. I started walking again.

"Hey, Eric," I called.

"Hi, Bella."

"What's up?" I said as I was unlocking the door. I wasn't paying attention to the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words took me by surprise.

"Uh, I was just wondering... if you would go to the spring dance with me?" His voice broke on the last word.

"I thought it was girls' choice," I said, too startled to be diplomatic.

"Well, yeah," he admitted, shamefaced.

I recovered my composure and tried to make my smile warm. "Thank you for asking me, but I'm going to be in Seattle that day."

"Oh," he said. "Well, maybe next time."

"Sure," I agreed, and then bit my lip. I wouldn't want him to take that too literally.

He slouched off, back toward the school. I heard a low laugh.

Edythe was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, her mouth not betraying even the hint of a smile. I yanked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it loudly behind me. I revved the engine deafeningly and reversed out into the aisle. Edythe was in her car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off. She stopped there - to wait for her family; I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria. I considered taking out the rear of her stupid shiny Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rearview mirror. A line was beginning to form. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I was too aggravated to acknowledge him.

While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but at the car in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Tyler. I glanced back in my rearview mirror, confused. His car was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway down, then gave up.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, I'm stuck behind Edythe." I was annoyed - obviously the holdup wasn't my fault.

"Oh, I know - I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here." He grinned.

This could not be happening.

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" he continued.

"I'm not going to be in town, Tyler." My voice sounded a little sharp. I had to remember it wasn't his fault that Mike and Eric had already used up my quota of patience for straight dudes hitting on me for the day.

"Yeah, Mike said that," he admitted.

"Then why -"

He shrugged. "I was hoping you were just letting him down easy."

Okay, it was completely his fault.

"Sorry, Tyler," I said, working to hide my irritation. "I really am going out of town."

"That's cool. We still have prom."

And before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face. I looked forward to see Alex, Rosalie, Eleanor, and Jamie all sliding into the Volvo. In her rearview mirror, Edythe's eyes were on me. She was unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if she'd heard every word Tyler had said. My foot itched toward the gas pedal... one little bump wouldn't hurt any of them, just that glossy silver paint job. I revved the engine.

But they were all in, and Edythe was speeding away. I drove home slowly, carefully, muttering to myself the whole way.

When I got home, I decided to make chicken enchiladas for dinner. It was a long process, and it would keep me busy. While I was simmering the onions and chilies, the phone rang. I was almost afraid to answer it, but it might be Charlie or my mom.

It was Jessica, and she was jubilant; Mike had caught her after school to accept her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. She had to go, she wanted to call Angela and Lauren to tell them. I suggested - with casual innocence - that maybe Angela, the shy girl who had Biology with me, could ask Eric. And Lauren, a standoffish girl who had always ignored me at the lunch table, could ask Tyler; I'd heard he was still available. Jess thought that was a great idea. Now that she was sure of Mike, she actually sounded sincere when she said she wished I would go to the dance. I gave her my Seattle excuse.

After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner - dicing the chicken especially; I didn't want to take another trip to the emergency room. But my head was spinning, trying to analyze every word Edythe had spoken today. What did she mean, it was better if we weren't friends?

My stomach twisted as I realized what she must have meant. She must see how absorbed I was by her; she must not want to lead me on... so we couldn't even be friends... because she wasn't interested in me at all.

Of course she wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging - a delayed reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And she was. Interesting... and brilliant... and mysterious... and perfect... and beautiful... and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand. Ugh.

Well, that was fine. I could leave her alone. I  _ would _ leave her alone. I would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.

Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. I couldn't blame him - the closest edible Mexican food was probably in southern California. But he was a cop, even if just a small-town cop, so he was brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the kitchen.

"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday... if that's okay?" I didn't want to ask permission - it set a bad precedent - but I felt rude, so I tacked it on at the end.

"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something that Forks couldn't offer.

"Well, I wanted to get few books - the library here is pretty limited - and maybe look at some clothes." I had more money than I was used to having, since, thanks to Charlie, I hadn't had to pay for a car. Not that the truck didn't cost me quite a bit in the gas department.

"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he said, echoing my thoughts.

"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia - and Tacoma if I have to."

"Are you going all by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was suspicious I had a secret crush or just worried about car trouble.

"Yes."

"Seattle is a big city - you could get lost," he fretted.

"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle - and I can read a map, don't worry about it."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I tried to be crafty as I hid my horror.

"That's all right, Dad, I'll probably just be in dressing rooms all day - very boring."

"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any period of time immediately put him off.

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school dances were.

"No - I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that - I didn't get my balance problems from my mother.

He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car. Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a pale hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Edythe Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.

"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" She held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, she dropped it into my palm.

"Appear out of thin air."

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." Her voice was just a murmur, muted velvet, and her lips were holding back a smile. Like she thought I was hilarious.

I scowled at her perfect face. Her eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts. Her feet were just a half-foot away from mine, oriented toward me, unmoving. Like she was waiting for a response.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, looking away. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." She smirked.

"You..." I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of my anger should physically burn her, but she only seemed more amused.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," she continued.

It was annoying how my thoughts exploded straight through my lips when I was near her, like I had no filter at all. I would never have spoken this way to someone else.

"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?"

Anger flashed in her tawny eyes, and when she answered, her voice was cold. "Bella, you are utterly absurd."

My palms tingled - I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at myself. I was usually a nonviolent person. I turned my back and started to walk away.

"Wait," she called. I forced myself to keep walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But she was next to me, easily keeping pace.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," Edythe said as we walked. I ignored her. "I'm not saying it isn't true," she continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me."

I sighed. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday - you know, the day of the spring dance -"

"Are you trying to be funny?" I interrupted her, wheeling toward her. My face was drenched by now. Her face, of course, was perfect--no makeup that had smudged or run in the rain.

Her amused expression was back, the hint of dimples on her cheeks. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I couldn't do anything rash.

"I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride."

That was unexpected.

"What?" I wasn't sure what she was getting at.

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?"

"With who?" I asked, mystified.

"Myself, obviously." She enunciated every syllable, like she thought maybe English wasn’t my first language.

I was still stunned. "Why?"

"Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I'm not sure if your truck can make it."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern." I started to walk again to display my displeasure, but I was too surprised to really maintain the same level of anger.

"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" She matched my pace again.

"I don't see how that is any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business," she said primly.

"Honestly, Edythe." I felt a thrill go through me as I said her name, and I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at her face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more... prudent for you not to be my friend," she explained, her eyes on mine. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

Her eyes were gloriously intense as she uttered that last sentence, her voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Will you accept a ride with me to Seattle?” she demanded, voice still burning.

I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded.

A quick smile reshaped her face, and then she was serious again.

"You really  _ should _ stay away from me," she warned. "I'll see you in class."

She turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.


	6. Blood Type

I made my way to English in a daze. I didn't even realize when I first walked in that class had already started.

"Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan," Mr. Mason said in a disparaging tone.

I flushed and hurried to my seat.

It wasn't till class ended that I realized Mike wasn't sitting in his usual seat next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt. But he and Eric both met me at the door as usual, so I figured I wasn't totally unforgiven. Mike seemed to become more himself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm as he talked about the weather report for this weekend. The rain was supposed to take a minor break, and so maybe his beach trip would be possible. I tried to sound eager, to make up for disappointing him yesterday. It was hard; rain or no rain, it would still only be in the high forties, if we were lucky.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined what Edythe had said, and the way her eyes had looked. Something about her confused my reality. First I’d thought I’d seen her stop a van barehanded, and now this. The original delusion seemed more likely than the second--that I appealed to her on any level. But here I was, walking into this one with eyes wide open, and I didn’t even care that the punch line was coming. At the moment, it seemed like a decent trade--her laughter later for that look in her eyes now.

So I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see her face, to see if she'd gone back to the cold, indifferent person I'd known for the last several weeks. Or if, by some miracle, I'd really heard what I thought I'd heard this morning. Jessica babbled on and on about her dance plans - Lauren and Angela had asked the other boys and they were all going together - completely unaware of my inattention.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on her table. The other four were there, but she was absent. Had she gone home? I followed the still-babbling Jessica through the line, crushed. I'd lost my appetite - I bought nothing but a bottle of lemonade. I just wanted to go sit down and sulk. Was she going to disappear every time something significant happened? Of course, the conversation this morning was only significant to me, I was sure.

"Edythe Cullen is staring at you again," Jessica said, finally breaking through my abstraction with her name. "I wonder why she's sitting alone today."

My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Edythe, dimples flashing, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria from where she usually sat. Once she'd caught my eye, she raised one hand and motioned with her index finger for me to join her. As I stared in disbelief, she winked.

"Does she mean you?" Jessica asked with insulting astonishment in her voice.

"Maybe she needs help with his Biology homework," I muttered for Jessica’s benefit. "Um, I'd better go see what she wants."

I could feel Jessica staring after me as I walked away.

When I reached Edythe table, I stood behind the chair across from her, unsure.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" she suggested with a wide smile.

I sat down automatically, watching her with caution. She was still smiling. It was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be real. I was afraid that she might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke, and I would wake up.

She stared back at me, still smiling. Was she waiting for me to say something?

"This is different," I finally managed.

"Well..." She paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

I waited for her to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.

"You know I don't have any idea what you mean," I eventually pointed out.

"I’m counting on it." She smiled again, and then changed the subject. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

"They'll survive." I could feel their stares boring into my back.

"I may not give you back, though," she said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

I gulped and she laughed. "You look worried."

"No," I said, but, ridiculously, my voice broke. "Surprised, though... what brought all this on?"

"I told you - I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." The smile was fading, and her ochre eyes were serious.

"Giving up?" I repeated in confusion.

"Yes - giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." The smile disappeared completely, and a hard edge crept into her silky voice.

"You lost me again."

Edythe smiled wryly.

"I always say too much when I'm talking to you - that's one of the problems."

"Don't worry - I don't understand any of it," I said wryly.

"Like I said - I'm counting on that."

We stared at each other for a few seconds, but the quiet wasn’t awkward this time. It was more...charged. My face started to get hot again.

"So,” I said, looking away, “in plain English, are we friends now?"

"Friends..." she mused, dubious.

"Or not," I muttered.

"Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Her smile was brittle now, the warning was real.

"You say that a lot," I noted, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in my stomach and keep my voice even.

"Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear, too." My eyes narrowed.

“I did apologize--the second time, at least. Will you forgive me for the first? I spoke without thinking.”

I nodded graciously and asked, "So, as long as I'm being... not smart, we'll try to be friends?" I struggled to sum up the confusing exchange.

"That sounds about right."

I looked down at my hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, not sure what to do now. It was strange to sit with her here--like normal people. I was sure I was the only normal one here.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

I looked up into her deep gold eyes, strangely curious and frustrated, became befuddled, and, as usual, blurted out the truth.

"I'm trying to figure out what you are."

Her smile tightened, like her teeth were suddenly clamped together, but she held it carefully in place.

"Are you having much luck with that?" she asked, studiously casual.

"Not too much," I admitted.

She smirked. "What are your theories?"

I blushed. I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker. There was no way I was going to own up to that.

"Won't you tell me?" she asked, tilting her head to one side and staring into my eyes as if she was trying to see through them, right into my brain. She smiled again, softer, shockingly tempting.

I shook my head. "Too embarrassing."

"That's really frustrating, you know," she complained.

"No," I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, "I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all - just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean... now, why would that be frustrating?"

She frowned, lips pouting distractingly.

"Or better," I continued, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, "say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things - from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and she never explained any of that, either, even after she promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating."

Her frown twitched for a second, then settled into a scowl. "You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double standards."

We stared at each other, unsmiling.

She pursed her lips, then glanced over my shoulder and laughed unexpectedly.

"What?"

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you - he's debating whether or not to come break up our fight." She smirked broadly.

"I don't know who you're talking about," I said frostily. "But I'm sure you're wrong, anyway."

"I'm not. I told you, most people are easy to read."

"Except me, of course."

"Yes. Except for you." Her eyes shifted to me and intensified, drilling into mine. "I wonder why that is."

I had to look away from the intensity of her stare. I concentrated on unscrewing the lid of my lemonade. I took a swig, staring at the table without seeing it.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked, distracted.

"No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full - of butterflies. "You?" I looked at the empty table in front of her.

"No, I'm not hungry." I didn't understand her expression - it looked like she was enjoying some private joke.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked after a second of hesitation.

She was suddenly wary. "That depends on what you want."

"It's not much," I assured her.

She waited, still guarded but clearly curious.

"I just wondered... if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." I looked at the lemonade bottle as I spoke, tracing the circle of the opening with one finger.

"That sounds fair." She looked like she was trying not to laugh when I glanced up.

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return?" she asked.

"One."

"Tell me one theory."

Whoops. "Not that one."

"You didn't qualify, you just promised one answer," she reminded me.

"And you've broken promises yourself," I reminded her back.

"Just one theory - I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will." I was positive about that.

She looked down, and then glanced up at me through her thick lashes, her golden eyes scorching underneath.

"Please?" she breathed, leaning toward me. My body leaned involuntarily closer to her, like she was a magnet and I was a paper clip, till her face was less than a foot from mine. My mind was totally blank.

"Er, what?" I asked, dazed, trying to lean back.

“One little theory,” she purred. “Please?” Her eyes still smoldered at me.

"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?" Was she a hypnotist, too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?

She rolled her eyes. ”That's not very creative.”

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," I said, miffed.

"You're not even close," she teased.

"No spiders?"

"Nope."

"And no radioactivity?"

"None."

"Dang," I sighed.

She chuckled. "Kryptonite doesn't bother me, either.”

"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"

She pressed her lips together, but her shoulders shook from holding the laughter back.

"I'll figure it out eventually," I warned her.

Her humor vanished like a switch flipped off. ”I wish you wouldn't try."

"Because... ?"

"What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?" She smiled playfully, but her eyes were impenetrable.

"Oh," I said, as several things she'd hinted fell suddenly into place. "I see.”

"Do you?" Her face was abruptly severe, as if she were afraid that she'd accidentally said too much.

"You're dangerous?" I guessed, my pulse quickening as I intuitively realized the truth of my own words. She was dangerous. She was no taller than me, no more than my age, and delicately built. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have called her dangerous more than I would have called Jessica dangerous. But she wasn’t normal, and she wasn’t like Jessica. I remembered the first time she’d glared at me with hate in her eyes, and I’d felt genuinely afraid, though I hadn’t understood the reaction in the moment, and I’d thought if foolish later. Now I understood. Under the doubt, outside the incongruity of the word dangerous applied to her perfect body, I could feel the truth of the foundation. The danger was real, though my logical mind wouldn’t make sense of it. And she’d been trying to tell me that all along.

She just looked at me, eyes full of some emotion I couldn't comprehend. For once, her porcelain face was vulnerable, eyes wide, anticipating my reaction.

"But not bad," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, I don't believe that you're bad."

"You're wrong." Her voice was almost inaudible. She looked down, stealing my bottle lid and spinning it like a top between her fingers. I stared at her, wondering why I didn't feel afraid. She meant what she was saying - that was obvious. But I just felt anxious, on edge... and, more than anything else, fascinated. The same way I always felt when I was near her.

The silence lasted until I noticed that the cafeteria was almost empty.

I jumped to my feet. "We're going to be late."

"I'm not going to class today," she said, twirling the lid so fast it was just a blur.

"Why not?"

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." She smiled up at me, but her eyes were still guarded.

"Well, I'm going," I told her. I was far too big a coward to risk getting caught skipping.

She turned his attention back to her makeshift top. "I'll see you later, then."

I hesitated, torn, but then the first bell sent me hurrying out the door - with a last glance confirming that she hadn't moved a centimeter. The lemonade lid was still spinning in a tight circle like it would never stop.

As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning just as fast. So few questions had been answered in comparison to how many new questions had been raised. At least the rain had stopped.

I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn't in the room yet when I arrived. I settled quickly into my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me. Mike looked resentful; Angela looked surprised, and slightly awed.

Mr. Banner came in the room then, calling the class to order. He was juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on Mike's table, telling him to start passing them around the class.

"Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box," he said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulled them on. The sharp sound as the gloves snapped into place against his wrists seemed ominous to me. "The first should be an indicator card," he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. "The second is a four-pronged applicator -" he held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick "- and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was invisible from this distance, but my stomach flipped.

"I'll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare your cards, so please don't start until I get to you." He began at Mike's table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares. "Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet..." He grabbed Mike's hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of Mike's middle finger. Oh no. Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead.

"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." He demonstrated, squeezing Mike's finger till the blood flowed. I swallowed convulsively, my stomach heaving.

"And then apply it to the card," he finished, holding up the dripping red card for us to see. I closed my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears.

"The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I thought you should all know your blood type." He sounded proud of himself. "Those of you who aren't eighteen yet will need a parent's permission - I have slips at my desk."

He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek against the cool black tabletop and tried to hold on to my consciousness. All around me I could hear squeals, complaints, and giggles as my classmates skewered their fingers. I breathed slowly in and out through my mouth.

"Bella, are you all right?" Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my head, and it sounded alarmed.

"I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner," I said in a weak voice. I was afraid to raise my head.

"Are you feeling faint?"

"Yes, sir," I muttered, internally kicking myself for not ditching when I had the chance.

"Can someone take Bella to the nurse, please?" he called.

I didn't have to look up to know that it would be Mike who volunteered.

"Can you walk?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Yes," I whispered. Just let me get out of here, I thought. I'll crawl.

Mike seemed eager as he put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm over his shoulder. I leaned against him heavily on the way out of the classroom.

Mike towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of sight of building four in case Mr. Banner was watching, I stopped.

"Just let me sit for a minute, please?" I begged.

He helped me sit on the edge of the walk.

"And whatever you do, keep your hand in your pocket," I warned. I was still so dizzy. I slumped over on my side, putting my cheek against the freezing, damp cement of the sidewalk, closing my eyes. That seemed to help a little.

"Wow, you're green, Bella," Mike said nervously.

"Bella?" a different voice called from the distance.

No! Please let me be imagining that horribly familiar voice.

"What's wrong - is she hurt?" The voice was closer now, and it sounded strangely fierce. I wasn't imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or, at the very least, not to throw up.

Mike seemed stressed. "I think she's fainted. I don't know what happened, she didn't even stick her finger."

"Bella." Edythe's voice was right beside me, relieved now. "Can you hear me?"

"No," I groaned. "Go away."

She laughed.

"I was taking her to the nurse," Mike explained in a defensive tone, "but she wouldn't go any farther."

"I'll take her," Edythe said. I could hear the smile still in her voice. "You can go back to class."

"No," Mike protested. "I'm supposed to do it."

But then a thin, strong arm was under both of mine, and I was on my feet without realizing how I got there. The strong arm, cold like the sidewalk, held me tight against a slim body, almost like a crutch. My eyes flew open in surprise, but all I could see was her tangled bronze hair, a mane around my face. She didn’t so much as stagger when my full weight tugged us both forward.

“I’m good, I swear,” I mumbled. Please, please let me not vomit on her.

"Hey!" Mike called, already ten paces behind us.

Edythe ignored him. "You look awful," she told me, grinning.

"Put me back on the sidewalk," I moaned. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

She ignored me, propelling us quickly forward. I’m not sure I was even walking.

"So you faint at the sight of blood?" he asked. This seemed to entertain her.

I didn't answer. I closed my eyes again and fought the nausea with all my strength, clamping my lips together. The most important thing was that I not vomit on her. I could survive everything else.

"And not even your own blood," she continued, laughing. It was like the sound of a bell ringing.

I don't know how she opened the door while dragging me, but it was suddenly warm—everywhere except where her body was pressed against mine—so I knew we were inside.

"Oh my," I heard a female voice gasp.

"She fainted in Biology," Edythe explained brightly.

I opened my eyes. I was in the office, and Edythe was dragging me past the front counter toward the nurse's door. Ms. Cope, the redheaded front office receptionist, ran ahead of her to hold it open. The grandmotherly nurse looked up from a novel, astonished, as Edythe swung me into the room and leaned me gently against the crackly paper that covered the brown vinyl mattress on the one cot, half-lifting me to get me in place. Then she moved to stand against the wall as far across the narrow room as possible. Her eyes were bright, excited.

"She's just a little faint," he reassured the startled nurse. "They're blood typing in Biology."

The nurse nodded sagely. "There's always one."

Edythe muffled a snicker.

"Just lie down for a minute, honey; it'll pass."

"I know," I sighed. The nausea was already fading. Soon the tunnel would shorten and things would sound normal again.

"Does this happen a lot?" she asked.

"Sometimes," I admitted. Edythe coughed to hide another laugh.

"You can go back to class now," she told her.

"I'm supposed to stay with her." She said this with such assured authority that - even though the nurse pursed her lips - she didn't argue it further.

"I'll go get you some ice for your forehead, dear," she said to me, and then bustled out of the room.

"You were right," I moaned, letting my eyes close.

"I usually am - but about what in particular this time?"

"Ditching is healthy." I practiced breathing evenly.

"You scared me for a minute there," Edythe admitted after a pause. She made it sound like she was confessing a humiliating weakness. "I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods."

"Ha ha." I still had my eyes closed, but I was feeling more normal every minute.

"Honestly - I've seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder."

"Poor Mike. I'll bet he's mad."

"He absolutely loathes me," Edythe said cheerfully.

"You can't know that," I argued, but then I wondered suddenly if she could.

"I saw his face - I could tell."

"How did you see me? I thought you were ditching." I was almost fine now, though the queasiness would probably pass faster if I'd eaten something for lunch. On the other hand, maybe it was lucky my stomach was empty.

"I was in my car, listening to a CD." Such a normal response - it surprised me.

I heard the door and opened my eyes to see the nurse with a cold compress in her hand.

"Here you go, dear." She laid it across my forehead. "You're looking better," she added.

"I think I'm fine," I said, sitting up. Just a little ringing in my ears, no spinning. The mint green walls stayed where they should.

I could see she was about to make me lie back down, but the door opened just then, and Ms. Cope stuck her head in.

"We've got another one," she warned.

I hopped down to free up the cot for the next invalid.

I handed the compress back to the nurse. "Here, I don't need this."

And then Mike staggered through the door, now supporting a sallow-looking Lee Stephens, another boy in our Biology class. Edythe and I drew back against the wall to give them room.

"Oh no," Edythe muttered. "Go out to the office, Bella."

I looked up at her, bewildered.

"Trust me - go."

I spun and caught the door before it closed, darting out of the infirmary. I could feel Edythe right behind me.

"You actually listened to me." She was stunned.

"I smelled the blood," I said, wrinkling my nose. Lee wasn't sick from watching other people, like me.

"People can't smell blood," she contradicted.

"Well, I can - that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust... and salt."

She was staring at me with a wary expression.

"What?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

Mike came through the door then, glancing from me to Edythe. The look he gave Edythe confirmed what Edythe had said about loathing. He looked back at me, his eyes glum.

"You look better," he accused.

"Just keep your hand in your pocket," I warned him again.

"It's not bleeding anymore," he muttered. "Are you going back to class?"

"Are you kidding? I'd just have to turn around and come back."

"Yeah, I guess... So are you going this weekend? To the beach?" While he spoke, he flashed another glare toward Edythe, who was standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a statue, staring off into space.

I tried to sound as friendly as possible. "Sure, I said I was in."

"We're meeting at my dad's store, at ten." His eyes flickered to Edythe again, wondering if he was giving out too much information. His body language made it clear that it wasn't an open invitation.

"I'll be there," I promised.

"I'll see you in Gym, then," he said, moving uncertainly toward the door.

"See you," I replied. He looked at me once more, his round face slightly pouting, and then as he walked slowly through the door, his shoulders slumped. A swell of sympathy washed over me. I pondered seeing his disappointed face again... in Gym.

"Gym," I groaned.

"I can take care of that." I hadn't noticed Edythe moving to my side, but she spoke now in my ear, her breath tickling me. "Go sit down and look pale," she muttered.

That wasn't a challenge; I was always pale, and my recent swoon had left a light sheen of sweat on my face. I sat in one of the creaky folding chairs and rested my head against the wall with my eyes closed. Fainting spells always exhausted me.

I heard Edythe speaking softly at the counter.

"Ms. Cope?"

"Yes?" I hadn't heard her return to her desk.

"Bella has Gym next hour, and I don't think she feels well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?" Her voice was like melting honey. I could imagine how much more overwhelming her eyes would be.

"Do you need to be excused, too, Edythe?" Ms. Cope fluttered. Why couldn't I do that?

"No, I have Mrs. Goff, she won't mind."

"Okay, it's all taken care of. You feel better, Bella," she called to me. I nodded weakly, hamming it up just a bit.

"Can you walk, or do you want me to help you again?" With her back to the receptionist, her expression became sarcastic.

"I'll walk."

I stood carefully, and I was still fine. She held the door for me, her smile polite but her eyes mocking. I walked out into the cold, fine mist that had just begun to fall. It felt nice - the first time I'd enjoyed the constant moisture falling out of the sky - as it washed my face clean of the sticky perspiration.

"Thanks," I said as she followed me out. "It's almost worth getting sick to miss Gym."

"Anytime." She was staring straight forward, squinting into the rain.

"So are you going? This Saturday, I mean?" I was hoping she would, though it seemed unlikely. I couldn't picture her loading up to carpool with the rest of the kids from school; she didn't belong in the same world. But just hoping that she might gave me the first twinge of enthusiasm I'd felt for the outing.

"Where are you all going, exactly?" She was still looking ahead, expressionless.

"Down to La Push, to First Beach." I studied her face, trying to read it. Her eyes seemed to narrow infinitesimally.

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, smiling wryly. "I really don't think I was invited."

I sighed. "I just invited you."

"Let's you and I not push poor Mike any further this week. We don't want him to snap." Her eyes danced; she was enjoying the idea more than he should.

"Mike-schmike." I muttered, preoccupied by the way she'd said "you and I." I liked it more than I should.

We were near the parking lot now. I veered left, toward my truck. Something caught my jacket, yanking me back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Edythe asked, outraged. She was gripping a fistful of my jacket in one hand. She hadn’t even planted her feet. For a second I couldn’t answer. She denied being a superhero, but my mind couldn’t seem to frame it any other way. It was like Supergirl had left her cape at home.

I had always liked Supergirl.

“Bella?” she asked, and I realized I hadn’t answered her question.

“Uh, what?”

“I asked where you were going.”

I was confused. "I'm going home."

"Didn't you hear me promise to take you safely home? Do you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition?" Her voice was indignant.

"What condition? And what about my truck?" I complained.

"I'll have Alex drop it off after school." She was towing me toward her car now, pulling me by my jacket. It was all I could do to keep from falling backward. She'd might just drag me along anyway if I did.

"Let go!" I insisted. She ignored me, except for a slight widening of her smile. I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk until we reached the Volvo. Then she finally freed me - I stumbled against the passenger door.

"You are so pushy!" I grumbled.

"It's open," was all she responded. She got in the driver's side.

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself home!" I stood by the car, fuming. It was raining harder now, and I'd never put my hood up, so my hair was dripping down my back.

She lowered the automatic window and leaned toward me across the seat. “Bella." Her voice was honey again.

I tried to maintain what dignity I could as I got into her car. I wasn't very successful - I looked like a half-drowned cat and my boots squeaked.

“It warms my cold heart to see you learning so quickly,” she said, smirking at me. She fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. As she pulled out of the parking lot, I was preparing to give her the silent treatment - my face in full pout mode - but then I recognized the music playing, and my curiosity got the better of my intentions.

"Clair de Lune?" I asked, surprised.

"You know Debussy?" She sounded surprised, too.

"Not well," I admitted. "My mother plays a lot of classical music around the house - I only know my favorites."

"It's one of my favorites, too." She stared out through the rain, lost in thought.

I listened to the music, relaxing against the light gray leather seat. It was impossible not to respond to the familiar, soothing melody. The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. I began to realize we were driving very fast; the car moved so steadily, so evenly, though, I didn't feel the speed. Only the town flashing by gave it away.

"What is your mother like?" she asked me suddenly.

I glanced over to see her studying me with curious, butterscotch eyes.

"She looks a lot like me, but she's prettier," I said. Edythe raised her eyebrows. "I have too much Charlie in me. She's more outgoing than I am, and braver. She's irresponsible and slightly eccentric, and she's a very unpredictable cook. She's my best friend." I stopped. Talking about her was making me depressed.

"How old are you, Bella?" Her voice sounded frustrated for some reason I couldn't imagine. She'd stopped the car, and I realized we were at Charlie's house already. The rain was so heavy that I could barely see the house at all. It was like the car was submerged under a river.

"I'm seventeen," I responded, a little confused.

"You don't seem seventeen."

Her tone was reproachful; it made me laugh.

"What?" she asked, curious again.

"My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year." I laughed, and then sighed. "Well, someone has to be the adult." I paused for a second. "You don't seem much like a junior in high school yourself," I noted.

She made a face and changed the subject.

"So why did your mother marry Phil?"

I was surprised she would remember the name; I'd mentioned it just once, almost two months ago. It took me a moment to answer.

"My mother... she's very young for her age. I think Phil makes her feel even younger. At any rate, she's crazy about him." I shook my head. The attraction was a mystery to me.

"Do you approve?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" I countered. "I want her to be happy... and he is who she wants."

"Would she extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?" She was suddenly intent, her eyes searching mine.

"I-I think so," I stuttered. "But she's the parent, after all. It's a little bit different."

Her face relaxed. "No one too scary then," she teased.

I grinned in response. "What do you mean by scary? Multiple facial piercings and extensive tattoos?"

"That's one definition, I suppose."

"What's your definition?"

But she ignored my question and asked me another. "Do you think that I could be scary?" She raised one eyebrow, and the faint trace of a smile lightened her face.

I examined her face for a minute, just as an excuse to stare at her. Her features were so delicate, so symmetrical. Her face wouldn’t stop anyone in their tracks, but it wouldn’t make them run in the other direction. The opposite. But there was a hardness to her eyes, a tightness around her mouth that made me remember our conversation over lunch.

“I think you could be, if you wanted to,” I answered.

"Are you frightened of me now?" The smile vanished, and her heavenly face was suddenly serious.

"No." But I answered too quickly. The smile returned.

"So, now are you going to tell me about your family?" I asked to distract her. "It's got to be a much more interesting story than mine."

She was instantly cautious. "What do you want to know?"

"The Cullens adopted you?" I verified.

"Yes."

I hesitated for a moment. "What happened to your parents?"

"They died many years ago." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I don't really remember them that clearly. Carine and Esme have been my parents for a long time now."

"And you love them." It wasn't a question. It was obvious in the way she spoke of them.

"Yes." She smiled. "I couldn't imagine two better people."

"You're very lucky."

"I know I am."

"And your siblings?"

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

"My siblings, and Jamie and Rosalie for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me."

"Oh, sorry, I guess you have to go." I didn't want to get out of the car.

"And you probably want your truck back before Chief Swan gets home, so you don't have to tell him about the Biology incident." She grinned at me.

"I'm sure he's already heard. There are no secrets in Forks." I sighed.

She laughed, but there was an edge to her laughter.

"Have fun at the beach... good weather for sunbathing." She glanced out at the sheeting rain.

"Won't I see you tomorrow?"

"No. Eleanor and I are starting the weekend early."

"What are you going to do?" A friend could ask that, right? I hoped the disappointment wasn't too apparent in my voice.

"We're going to be hiking in the Goat Rocks Wilderness, just south of Rainier."

I remembered Charlie had said the Cullens went camping frequently.

"Oh, well, have fun." I tried to sound enthusiastic. I don't think I fooled her, though. A smile was playing around the edges of her lips.

"Will you do something for me this weekend?" She turned to look me straight in the face, utilizing the full power of his burning gold eyes.

I nodded helplessly. Anything.

"Don't be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So... try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?" 

She flashed her dimples at me, but the helplessness had faded as she spoke. I glared at her.

"I'll see what I can do," I snapped as I jumped out into the rain. I slammed the door behind me with excessive force.

She was still smiling as she drove away.

 


	7. Scary Stories

As I sat in my room, trying to concentrate on the third act of Macbeth, I was really listening for my truck. I would have thought, even over the pounding rain, I could have heard the engine's roar. But when I went to peek out the curtain - again - it was suddenly there.

I wasn't looking forward to Friday, and it more than lived up to my non-expectations. Of course there were the fainting comments. Jessica especially seemed to get a kick out of that story. Luckily Mike had kept his mouth shut, and no one seemed to know about Edythe's involvement. She did have a lot of questions about lunch, though.

"So what did Edythe Cullen want yesterday?" Jessica asked in Trig.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "She never really got to the point."

"You looked kind of mad," she fished.

"Did I?" I kept my expression blank.

"You know, I've never seen her sit with anyone but her family before. That was weird."

"Weird," I agreed. She seemed annoyed; she flipped her dark curls impatiently - I guessed she'd been hoping to hear something that would make a good story for her to pass on.

The worst part about Friday was that, even though I knew she wasn't going to be there, I still hoped. When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica and Mike, I couldn't keep from looking at her table, where Rosalie, Alex, and Jamie sat talking, heads close together. And I couldn't stop the gloom that engulfed me as I realized I didn't know how long I would have to wait before I saw her again.

At my usual table, everyone was full of our plans for the next day. Mike was animated again, putting a great deal of trust in the local weatherman who promised sun tomorrow. I'd have to see that before I believed it. But it was warmer today - almost sixty. Maybe the outing wouldn't be completely miserable.

I intercepted a few unfriendly glances from Lauren during lunch, which I didn't understand until we were all walking out of the room together. I was right behind her, just a foot from her slick, silver blond hair, and she was evidently unaware of that.

"...don't know why Bella" - she sneered my name - "doesn't just sit with the Cullens from now on."

I heard her muttering to Mike. I'd never noticed what an unpleasant, nasal voice she had, and I was surprised by the malice in it. I really didn't know her well at all, certainly not well enough for her to dislike me - or so I'd thought. "She's my friend; she sits with us," Mike whispered back loyally, but also a bit territorially. I paused to let Jess and Angela pass me. I didn't want to hear any more.

That night at dinner, Charlie seemed enthusiastic about my trip to La Push in the morning. I think he felt guilty for leaving me home alone on the weekends, but he'd spent too many years building his habits to break them now. Of course he knew the names of all the kids going, and their parents, and their great-grandparents, too, probably. He seemed to approve. I wondered if he would approve of my plan to ride to Seattle with Edythe Cullen. Not that I was going to tell him.

"Dad, do you know a place called Goat Rocks or something like that? I think it's south of Mount Rainier," I asked casually.

"Yeah - why?"

I shrugged. "Some kids were talking about camping there."

"It's not a very good place for camping." He sounded surprised. "Too many bears. Most people go there during the hunting season."

"Oh," I murmured. "Maybe I got the name wrong."

I meant to sleep in, but an unusual brightness woke me. I opened my eyes to see a clear yellow light streaming through my window. I couldn't believe it. I hurried to the window to check, and sure enough, there was the sun. It was in the wrong place in the sky, too low, and it didn't seem to be as close as it should be, but it was definitely the sun.

Clouds ringed the horizon, but a large patch of blue was visible in the middle. I lingered by the window as long as I could, afraid that if I left the blue would disappear again.

The Newtons' Olympic Outfitters store was just north of town. I'd seen the store, but I'd never stopped there - not having much need for any supplies required for being outdoors over an extended period of time. In the parking lot I recognized Mike's Suburban and Tyler's Sentra. As I pulled up next to their vehicles, I could see the group standing around in front of the Suburban. Eric was there, along with two other boys I had class with; I was fairly sure their names were Ben and Conner. Jess was there, flanked by Angela and Lauren. Three other girls stood with them, including one I remembered falling over in Gym on Friday. That one gave me a dirty look as I got out of the truck, and whispered something to Lauren. Lauren shook out her cornsilk hair and eyed me scornfully.

So it was going to be one of those days.

At least Mike was happy to see me.

"You came!" he called, delighted. "And I said it would be sunny today, didn't I?"

"I told you I was coming," I reminded him.

"We're just waiting for Lee and Samantha... unless you invited someone," Mike added.

"Nope," I lied lightly, hoping I wouldn't get caught in the lie. But also wishing that a miracle would occur, and Edythe would appear.

Mike looked satisfied.

"Will you ride in my car? It's that or Lee's mom's minivan."

"Sure."

He smiled blissfully. It was so easy to make Mike happy.

"You can have shotgun," he promised. I hid my chagrin. It wasn't as simple to make Mike and Jessica happy at the same time. I could see Jessica glowering at us now.

The numbers worked out in my favor, though. Lee brought two extra people, and suddenly every seat was necessary. I managed to wedge Jess in between Mike and me in the front seat of the Suburban. Mike could have been more graceful about it, but at least Jess seemed appeased.

It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous, dense green forests edging the road most of the way and the wide Quillayute River snaking beneath it twice. I was glad I had the window seat. We'd rolled the windows down - the Suburban was a bit claustrophobic with nine people in it - and I tried to absorb as much sunlight as possible.

I'd been to the beaches around La Push many times during my Forks summers with Charlie, so the mile-long crescent of First Beach was familiar to me. It was still breathtaking. The water was dark gray, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides, reaching to uneven summits, and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the water's edge, after which it grew into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distance, but close up were every shade a stone could be: terra-cotta, sea green, lavender, blue gray, dull gold. The tide line was strewn with huge driftwood trees, bleached bone white in the salt waves, some piled together against the edge of the forest fringe, some lying solitary, just out of reach of the waves.

There was a brisk wind coming off the waves, cool and briny. Pelicans floated on the swells while seagulls and a lone eagle wheeled above them. The clouds still circled the sky, threatening to invade at any moment, but for now the sun shone bravely in its halo of blue sky.

We picked our way down to the beach, Mike leading the way to a ring of driftwood logs that had obviously been used for parties like ours before. There was a fire circle already in place, filled with black ashes. Eric and the boy I thought was named Ben gathered broken branches of driftwood from the drier piles against the forest edge, and soon had a teepee-shaped construction built atop the old cinders.

"Have you ever seen a driftwood fire?" Mike asked me. I was sitting on one of the bone-colored benches; the other girls clustered, gossiping excitedly, on either side of me. Mike kneeled by the fire, lighting one of the smaller sticks with a cigarette lighter.

"No," I said as he placed the blazing twig carefully against the teepee.

"You'll like this then - watch the colors." He lit another small branch and laid it alongside the first. The flames started to lick quickly up the dry wood.

"It's blue," I said in surprise.

"The salt does it. Pretty, isn't it?" He lit one more piece, placed it where the fire hadn't yet caught, and then came to sit by me. Thankfully, Jess was on his other side. She turned to him and claimed his attention. I watched the strange blue and green flames crackle toward the sky.

After a half hour of chatter, some of the boys wanted to hike to the nearby tidal pools. It was a dilemma. On the one hand, I loved the tide pools. They had fascinated me since I was a child; they were one of the only things I ever looked forward to when I had to come to Forks. On the other hand, I'd also fallen into them a lot. Not a big deal when you're seven and with your dad. It reminded me of Edythe's request - that I not fall into the ocean.

Lauren was the one who made my decision for me. She didn't want to hike, and she was definitely wearing the wrong shoes for it. Most of the other girls besides Angela and Jessica decided to stay on the beach as well. I waited until Tyler and Eric had committed to remaining with them before I got up quietly to join the pro-hiking group. Mike gave me a huge smile when he saw that I was coming.

The hike wasn't too long, though I hated to lose the sky in the woods. The green light of the forest was strangely at odds with the adolescent laughter, too murky and ominous to be in harmony with the light banter around me. I had to watch each step I took very carefully, avoiding roots below and branches above, and I soon fell behind. Eventually I broke through the emerald confines of the forest and found the rocky shore again. It was low tide, and a tidal river flowed past us on its way to the sea. Along its pebbled banks, shallow pools that never completely drained were teeming with life.

I was very cautious not to lean too far over the little ocean ponds. The others were fearless, leaping over the rocks, perching precariously on the edges. I found a very stable-looking rock on the fringe of one of the largest pools and sat there cautiously, spellbound by the natural aquarium below me. The bouquets of brilliant anemones undulated ceaselessly in the invisible current, twisted shells scurried about the edges, obscuring the crabs within them, starfish stuck motionless to the rocks and each other, while one small black eel with white racing stripes wove through the bright green weeds, waiting for the sea to return. I was completely absorbed, except for one small part of my mind that wondered what Edythe was doing now, and trying to imagine what she would be saying if she were here with me.

Finally the boys were hungry, and I got up stiffly to follow them back. I tried to keep up better this time through the woods, so naturally I fell a few times. I got some shallow scrapes on my palms, and the knees of my jeans were stained green, but it could have been worse.

When we got back to First Beach, the group we'd left behind had multiplied. As we got closer we could see the shining, straight black hair and copper skin of the newcomers, teenagers from the reservation come to socialize.

The food was already being passed around, and the boys hurried to claim a share while Eric introduced us as we each entered the driftwood circle. Angela and I were the last to arrive, and, as Eric said our names, I noticed a younger girl sitting on the stones near the fire glance up at me in interest. I sat down next to Angela, and Mike brought us sandwiches and an array of sodas to choose from, while a girl who looked to be the oldest of the visitors rattled off the names of the seven others with him. All I caught was that one of the boys was also named Tyler, and the boy who noticed me was named Julie.

It was relaxing to sit with Angela; she was a restful kind of person to be around - she didn't feel the need to fill every silence with chatter. She left me free to think undisturbed while we ate. And I was thinking about how disjointedly time seemed to flow in Forks, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in my mind. I knew exactly what caused the difference, and it disturbed me.

During lunch the clouds started to advance, slinking across the blue sky, darting in front of the sun momentarily, casting long shadows across the beach, and blackening the waves. As they finished eating, people started to drift away in twos and threes. Some walked down to the edge of the waves, trying to skip rocks across the choppy surface. Others were gathering a second expedition to the tide pools. Mike - with Jessica shadowing him - headed up to the one shop in the village. Some of the local kids went with them; others went along on the hike. By the time they all had scattered, I was sitting alone on my driftwood log, with Lauren and Tyler occupying themselves by the CD player someone had thought to bring, and three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the kid named Julie and the oldest girl who had acted as spokesperson.

A few minutes after Angela left with the hikers, Julie came over to take her place by my side. She looked fourteen, maybe fifteen, and had long, glossy black hair pulled back with a rubber band at the nape of her neck. His skin was beautiful, silky and copper-colored; her eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones. She still had just a hint of childish roundness left around his chin, and her lips curved like a bow. Altogether, a very pretty face. However, my positive opinion of her looks was damaged by the first words out of her mouth.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?"

It was like the first day of school all over again.

"Bella," I sighed.

“Right,” she said, like she’d already known that. “I’m Julie Black. You bought my mom's truck."

"Oh," I said, relieved, shaking her warm hand. "You're Bonnie’s daughter. I probably should remember you."

"No, I'm the youngest of the family - you would remember my older sisters."

"Rachel and Rebecca," I suddenly recalled. Charlie and Bonnie had thrown us together a lot during my visits, to keep us busy while they fished. We were all too shy to make much progress as friends. Of course, I'd kicked up enough tantrums to end the fishing trips by the time I was eleven.

"Are they here?" I examined the girls at the ocean's edge, wondering if I would recognize them now.

"No." Jacob shook his head. "Rachel got a scholarship to Washington State, and Rebecca married a Samoan surfer - she lives in Hawaii now."

"Married. Wow." I was stunned. The twins were only a little over a year older than I was.

"So how do you like the truck?" she asked.

"I love it. It runs great."

"Yeah, but it's really slow," she laughed. "I was so relieved when Charlie bought it. My dad wouldn't let me work on building another car when we had a perfectly good vehicle right there."

"It's not that slow," I objected.

"Have you tried to go over sixty?"

"No," I admitted.

"Good. Don't." She grinned.

I couldn't help grinning back. "It does great in a collision," I offered in my truck's defense.

"I don't think a tank could take out that old monster," she agreed with another laugh.

"So you build cars?" I asked, impressed.

"When I have free time, and parts. You wouldn't happen to know where I could get my hands on a master cylinder for a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit?" she added jokingly. She had a pleasant, throaty voice.

"Sorry," I laughed, "I haven't seen any lately, but I'll keep my eyes open for you." As if I knew what that was. She was very easy to talk with.

She flashed a brilliant smile, looking at me in a way I was learning to recognize. I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"You know Bella, Julie?" Lauren asked - in what I imagined was an insolent tone - from across the fire.

"We've sort of known each other since I was born," Jules said, smiling at me again.

"How nice." Lauren didn't sound like she thought it was nice at all, and her pale, fishy eyes narrowed.

Jules raised her eyebrows at Lauren’s tone. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?”

Her sarcasm seemed to throw Lauren off, but she wasn’t done with me yet. "Bella," she said, watching my face carefully, "I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?" Her expression of concern was unconvincing.

"You mean Dr. Carine Cullen's family?" a strong, clear voice asked. It was the older girl who had first introduced the local kids. She was even older than I’d thought, now that I looked at her closer. Not really a girl at all, but a woman. Unlike Julie, her hair was close cropped, and she was almost as tall as I imagined Eleanor to be.

"Yes, do you know them?" Lauren asked condescendingly, turning halfway toward the newcomer.

"The Cullens don't come here," she said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring Lauren question.

Tyler, trying to win back her attention, asked Lauren's opinion on a CD he held. She was distracted.

I stared at the clear-voiced woman, taken aback, but she was looking away toward the dark forest behind us. She'd said that the Cullens didn't come here, but her tone had implied something more - that they weren't allowed; they were prohibited. Her manner left a strange impression on me, and I tried to ignore it without success.

Julie interrupted my meditation. "So is Forks driving you insane yet?"

"Oh, I'd say that's an understatement." I grimaced. She grinned understandingly.

I was still turning over the brief comment on the Cullens, and I had a sudden inspiration. It was a stupid plan, but I didn't have any better ideas. I hoped that I was reading Julie correctly, and I looked at her, speculating.

“What?” she asked.

"Do you want to walk down the beach with me?" I asked, trying to imitate that way Edythe had of looking up from underneath her eyelashes. It couldn't have nearly the same effect, I was sure, but Julie jumped up willingly enough.

As we walked north across the multihued stones toward the driftwood seawall, the clouds finally closed ranks across the sky, causing the sea to darken and the temperature to drop. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. Julie on the other hand, swung her thinly-clad arms as she walked, unbothered by the cold.

I pondered how to do this. I bet she had information that I wanted, but I didn’t want to lead her on. Luckily, Julie spoke first.

“Nice friends,” she commented when we were far enough from the fire that the clattering of the stones beneath our feet was more than enough to drown out our voices.

“Not mine.”

She laughed. “I could tell.”

“Were those other kids your friends? That one seemed kind of...old...to be hanging out with us.” I flashed a smile toward her, purposefully including myself in with the younger crowd.

“That’s Samantha--Sam. She’s nineteen, I think. I don’t hang out with her. One of my friends was there before--Quil. I think she went up to the store.”

“I don’t remember which one she was.”

Julie shrugged. “I didn’t catch many names, either. I only remember yours because you used to pull my hair.”

I blushed but couldn’t help eyeing her hair. It was very nice. “I did? I’m so sorry!”

She laughed. “You’re so red! No--that was just my sisters. But I totally could have convinced you that you were guilty.”

My blush deepened, but it was easy to laugh with Julie. “Guess so. Hey, can I ask you something?”

She eyed me. “Shoot.”

“What did that girl--Sam--what did she mean about the doctor’s family?”

"The Cullens? Oh, they're not supposed to come onto the reservation." She looked away, out toward James Island, and the movement and her tone confirmed what I'd thought I'd heard in Sam's voice.

"Why not?"

Julie looked back at me, biting her full lip. "Oops. I'm not supposed to say anything about that."

I glanced at her sidelong. “Is it a secret?”

She pursed her curved lips. “Sort of.” Julie paused, and I waited, hoping. I was rewarded when she leaned in, throaty voice huskier than before. “Do you like scary stories, Bella?”

For one second, I could hear Edythe’s voice clearly in my head.  _ Do you think I could be scary _ **_?_ **

“How scary are we talking here?”

“You’ll never sleep again,” she promised me.

I sighed. I was a coward, but I needed to know. “Well, now I have to hear it.”

Julie chuckled and strolled to a nearby driftwood tree that had its roots sticking out like the attenuated legs of a huge, pale spider. She perched lightly on one of the twisted roots while I sat beneath him on the body of the tree. She stared down at the rocks, a smile hovering around the edges of her full lips. I could see she was going to try to make this good. I focused on keeping the vital interest I felt out of my eyes.

“Okay, terrify me, Jules.”

"Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from - the Quileutes, I mean?" she began.

"Not really," I admitted.

"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood - supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark." She smiled, to show me she wasn’t taking this seriously, either. "Another legend claims that we descended from wolves - and that the wolves are our sisters still. It's against tribal law to kill them.

"Then there are the stories about the cold ones." Her voice dropped a little lower.

"The cold ones?" I asked. My interest must be showing now.

"Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandmother knew some of them. She was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." Jules rolled her eyes.

"Your great-grandmother?" I encouraged.

"She was a tribal elder, like my mother. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf--well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into women, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

"Werewolves have enemies?"

"Only one."

I stared at her eagerly, hoping to disguise my impatience as entertainment, or admiration.

"So you see," Jules continued, "the cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandmother’s time was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did - they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandmother made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces." She winked at me.

"If they weren't dangerous, then why... ?"

"There's always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they're civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist." She deliberately worked a thick edge of menace into her tone.

"What do you mean, 'civilized'?"

"They claimed that they didn't hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead."

I tried to keep my voice casual. "So how does it fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the cold ones your great-grandmother met?"

"No." She paused dramatically. "They are the  _ same _ ones."

She must have thought the expression on my face was fear inspired by her story. She smiled, pleased, and continued.

"There are more of them now, two new ones, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandmother’s time they already knew of the leader, Carine. She'd been here and gone before your people had even arrived." Jules was fighting a smile.

"And what are they?" I finally asked. "What are the cold ones?"

She smiled darkly.

"Blood drinkers," he replied in a chilling voice. "Your people call them vampires."

I stared out at the rough surf after she answered, not sure what my face was exposing.

"You have goose bumps," she laughed delightedly.

"You're a good storyteller," I complimented her, still staring into the waves.

"Pretty crazy stuff, though, isn't it? No wonder my mom doesn't want us to talk about it to anyone."

I couldn't control my expression enough to look at her yet. "Don't worry, I won't give you away."

"I guess I just violated the treaty," she laughed.

"I'll take it to the grave," I promised, and then I shivered.

"Seriously, though, don't say anything to Charlie. He was pretty mad at my mom when he heard that some of us weren't going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there."

"I won't, of course not."

"So do you think we're a bunch of superstitious natives or what?" she asked in a playful tone, but with a hint of worry. I still hadn't looked away from the ocean.

I turned and smiled at her as normally as I could.

"No. I think you're very good at telling scary stories, though. I still have goose bumps, see?" I held up my arm.

"Cool." She smiled.

And then the sound of the beach rocks clattering against each other warned us that someone was approaching. Our heads snapped up at the same time to see Mike and Jessica about fifty yards away, walking toward us.

"There you are, Bella," Mike called in relief, waving his arm over his head.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Julie asked, alerted by the jealous edge in Mike's voice. I was surprised it was so obvious.

"No.  _ Why _ does everyone think that?” I grumbled, exasperated.

“Maybe because he wants them to,” she replied, eyebrows raised.

I sighed.

“If you ever need a break from these friends of yours, let me know.”

“I will,” I promised her. I couldn’t promise anything more than friends, but Jules was so easygoing. She was someone I could easily be friends with.

Mike had reached us now, with Jessica still a few paces back. I could see his eyes appraising Jules, and looking satisfied at her obvious youth.

"Where have you been?" he asked, though the answer was right in front of him.

"Jules was giving me a guided tour of First Beach," I volunteered. "It was really interesting."

I smiled at Julie warmly, and she grinned back.

"Well," Mike paused, carefully reassessing the situation as he watched our camaraderie. "We're packing up - it looks like it's going to rain soon."

We all looked up at the glowering sky. It certainly did look like rain.

"Okay." I jumped up. "I'm coming."

"It was nice to see you again," Julie said, and I could tell she was taunting Mike just a bit.

"It really was. Next time Charlie comes down to see Bonnie, I'll come, too," I promised.

Her grin stretched across her face. "That would be cool."

"And thanks," I added in a low voice, meant just for her. I wasn’t quite casual enough, but she winked at me anyway.

I pulled up my hood as we tramped across the rocks toward the parking lot. A few drops were beginning to fall, making black spots on the stones where they landed. When we got to the Suburban the others were already loading everything back in. I crawled into the backseat by Angela and Tyler, announcing that I'd already had my turn in the shotgun position. Angela just stared out the window at the escalating storm, and Lauren twisted around in the middle seat to occupy Tyler's attention, so I could simply lay my head back on the seat and close my eyes and try very hard not to think.

 


	8. Nightmare

I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do, and that I didn't want anything to eat. There was a basketball game on that he was excited about, though of course I had no idea what was special about it, so he wasn't aware of anything unusual in my face or tone.

Once in my room, I locked the door. I dug through my desk until I found my old headphones, and I plugged them into my little CD player. I picked up a CD that Phil had given to me for Christmas. It was one of his favorite bands, but they used a little too much bass and shrieking for my tastes. I popped it into place and lay down on my bed. I put on the headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top half of my face.

I concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics, to unravel the complicated drum patterns. By the third time I'd listened through the CD, I knew all the words to the choruses, at least. I was surprised to find that I really did like the band after all, once I got past the blaring noise. I'd have to thank Phil again.

And it worked. The shattering beats made it impossible for me to think - which was the whole purpose of the exercise. I listened to the CD again and again, until I was singing along with all the songs, until, finally, I fell asleep.

I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognized the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun. I was trying to follow the sound, but then Julie Black was there, tugging on my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"Jules? What's wrong?" I asked. Her face was frightened as she yanked with all her strength against my resistance; I didn't want to go into the dark.

"Run, Bella, you have to run!" she whispered, terrified.

"This way, Bella!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.

"Why?" I asked, still pulling against Julie’s grasp, desperate now to find the sun.

But Julie let go of my hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim forest floor. She twitched on the ground as I watched in horror.

"Julie!" I screamed. But she was gone. In her place was a big, red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of her shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between her exposed fangs.

"Bella, run!" Mike cried out again from behind me. But I didn't turn. I was watching a light coming toward me from the beach.

And then Edythe stepped out from the trees.

She wore a black dress. It hung all the way to the ground but exposed her arms to the shoulders and had a deep-cut V for a neckline. Her skin was faintly glowing, and her eyes were flat black. She held up one hand and beckoned for me to come to her. Her nails were filed into sharp points and painted a red so dark they were almost as black as her dress. Her lips were the same color.

The wolf between us growled.

I took a step forward, toward Edythe. She smiled then, and between her dark lips her teeth were sharp, pointed, like her fingernails.

"Trust me," she purred.

I took another step.

The wolf launched herself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.

"No!" I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed.

My sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the CD player off the bedside table, and it clattered to the wooden floor.

My light was still on, and I was sitting fully dressed on the bed, with my shoes on. I glanced, disoriented, at the clock on my dresser. It was five-thirty in the morning.

I groaned, fell back, and rolled over onto my face, kicking off my boots. I was too uncomfortable to get anywhere near sleep, though. I rolled back over and unbuttoned my jeans, yanking them off awkwardly as I tried to stay horizontal. I could feel the braid in my hair, an uncomfortable ridge along the back of my skull. I turned onto my side and ripped the rubber band out, quickly combing through the plaits with my fingers. I pulled the pillow back over my eyes.

It was all no use, of course. My subconscious had dredged up exactly the images I'd been trying so desperately to avoid. I was going to have to face them now.

I sat up, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downward. First things first, I thought to myself, happy to put it off as long as possible. I grabbed my bathroom bag.

The shower didn't last nearly as long as I hoped it would, though. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, I crossed back to my room. I couldn't tell if Charlie was still asleep, or if he had already left. I went to look out my window, and the cruiser was gone. Fishing again.

I dressed slowly in my most comfy sweats and then made my bed - which was just stalling. I couldn't put it off any longer. I went to my desk and switched on my old computer.

I hated using the Internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, my free service substandard; just dialing up took so long that I decided to go get myself a bowl of cereal while I waited.

I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away. My feet dragged as I climbed the stairs. I went to my CD player first, picking it up off the floor and placing it precisely in the center of the table. I pulled out the headphones, and put them away in the desk drawer. Then I turned the same CD on, turning it down to the point where it was background noise.

With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally, the screen was covered in pop-up ads. I sat in my hard folding chair and began closing all the little windows. Eventually I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-ups and then typed in one word.

_ Vampire. _

It took an infuriatingly long time, of course. When the results came up, there was a lot to sift through - everything from movies and TV shows to role-playing games, underground metal, and gothic cosmetic companies.

Then I found a promising site - Vampires A-Z. I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking closed each ad that flashed across the screen. Finally the screen was finished - simple white background with black text, academic-looking. Two quotes greeted me on the home page:

_ Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both. - Rev. Montague Summers _

_ If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of the vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires? - Rousseau _

The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the different myths of vampires held throughout the world. The first I clicked on, the Danag, was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the islands long ago. The myth continued that the Danag worked with humans for many years, but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut her finger and a Danag sucked her wound, enjoying the taste so much that it drained her body completely of blood.

I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible. It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for infidelity. Many of the stories involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper burials. There wasn't much that sounded like the movies I'd seen, and only a very few, like the Hebrew Estrie and the Polish Upier, who were even preoccupied with drinking blood.

Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human, the Slovak Nelapsi, a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight, and one other, the Stregoni benefici.

About this last there was only one brief sentence.

Stregoni benefici: An Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.

It was a relief, that one small entry, the one myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires.

Overall, though, there was little that coincided with Julie’s stories or my own observations. I'd made a little catalogue in my mind as I'd read and carefully compared it with each myth. Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that shift color; and then Julie’s criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, and immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor.

And then another problem, one that I'd remembered from the small number of scary movies that I'd seen and was backed up by today's reading - vampires couldn't come out in the daytime, the sun would burn them to a cinder. They slept in coffins all day and came out only at night.

Aggravated, I snapped off the computer's main power switch, not waiting to shut things down properly. Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me? I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks - and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter.

I had to get out of the house, but there was nowhere I wanted to go that didn't involve a three-day drive. I pulled on my boots anyway, unclear where I was headed, and went downstairs. I shrugged into my raincoat without checking the weather and stomped out the door.

It was overcast, but not raining yet. I ignored my truck and started east on foot, angling across Charlie's yard toward the ever-encroaching forest. It didn't take long till I was deep enough for the house and the road to be invisible, for the only sound to be the squish of the damp earth under my feet and the sudden cries of the jays.

There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here, or I wouldn't risk wandering on my own like this. My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly east as far as I could tell. It snaked around the Sitka spruces and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples. I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me, and all I knew was due to Charlie pointing them out to me from the cruiser window in earlier days. There were many I didn't know, and others I couldn't be sure about because they were so covered in green parasites.

I followed the trail as long as my anger at myself pushed me forward. As that started to ebb, I slowed. A few drops of moisture trickled down from the canopy above me, but I couldn't be certain if it was beginning to rain or if it was simply pools left over from yesterday, held high in the leaves above me, slowly dripping their way back to the earth. A recently fallen tree - I knew it was recent because it wasn't entirely carpeted in moss - rested against the trunk of one of her sisters, creating a sheltered little bench just a few safe feet off the trail. I stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure my jacket was between the damp seat and my clothes wherever they touched, and leaned my hooded head back against the living tree.

This was the wrong place to have come. I should have known, but where else was there to go? The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene in last night's dream to allow for peace of mind. Now that there was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps, the silence was piercing. The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above. The ferns stood higher than my head, now that I was seated, and I knew someone could walk by on the path, three feet away, and not see me.

Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom.

I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions I had to answer, but I did so unwillingly.

First, I had to decide if it was possible that what Julie had said about the Cullens could be true.

Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what, then? I asked myself. There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment. I listed again in my head the things I'd observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye color shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty, the pale, frigid skin. And more - small things that registered slowly - how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way Edythe sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom. She had skipped class the day we'd done blood typing. She hadn't said no to the beach trip till She heard where we were going. She seemed to know what everyone around him was thinking... except me. She had told me she was the villain, dangerous...

Could the Cullens be vampires?

Well, they were  _ something _ . Something outside the possibility of rational justification was taking place in front of my incredulous eyes. Whether it be Julie’s  _ cold ones _ or my own superhero theory, Edythe Cullen was not... human. She was something more.

So then - maybe. That would have to be my answer for now.

And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do if it was true?

If Edythe was a vampire - I could hardly make myself think the words - then what should I do? Involving someone else was definitely out. I couldn't even believe myself; anyone I told would have me committed.

Only two options seemed practical. The first was to take her advice: to be smart, to avoid her as much as possible. To cancel our plans, to go back to ignoring her as far as I was able. To pretend there was an impenetrably thick glass wall between us in the one class where we were forced together. To tell her to leave me alone - and mean it this time.

I was gripped in a sudden agony of despair as I considered that alternative. My mind rejected the pain, quickly skipping on to the next option.

I could do nothing different. After all, if she was something... sinister, she'd done nothing to hurt me so far. In fact, I would be a dent in Tyler's fender if she hadn't acted so quickly. So quickly, I argued with myself, that it might have been sheer reflexes. But if it was a reflex to save lives, how bad could she be? I retorted. My head spun around in answerless circles.

There was one thing I was sure of, if I was sure of anything. The dark Edythe in my dream last night was a reflection only of my fear of the word Julie had spoken, and not Edythe herself. Even so, when I'd screamed out in terror at the werewolf's lunge, it wasn't fear for the wolf that brought the cry of "no" to my lips. It was fear that Edythe would be harmed - even as she called to me with sharp-edged fangs, I feared for her.

And I knew in that I had my answer. I didn't know if there ever was a choice, really. I was already in too deep. Now that I knew - if I knew - I could do nothing about my frightening secret. Because when I thought of her, of her voice, her hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of her personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with her right now. Even if... but I couldn't think it. Not here, alone in the darkening forest. Not while the rain made it dim as twilight under the canopy and pattered like footsteps across the matted earthen floor. I shivered and rose quickly from my place of concealment, worried that somehow the path would have disappeared with the rain.

But it was there, safe and clear, winding its way out of the dripping green maze. I followed it hastily, my hood pulled close around my face, becoming surprised, as I nearly ran through the trees, at how far I had come. I started to wonder if I was heading out at all, or following the path farther into the confines of the forest. Before I could get too panicky, though, I began to glimpse some open spaces through the webbed branches. And then I could hear a car passing on the street, and I was free, Charlie's lawn stretched out in front of me, the house beckoning me, promising warmth and dry socks.

It was just noon when I got back inside. I went upstairs and got dressed for the day, jeans and a t-shirt, since I was staying indoors. It didn't take too much effort to concentrate on my task for the day, a paper on Macbeth that was due Wednesday. I settled into outlining a rough draft contentedly, more serene than I'd felt since... well, since Thursday afternoon, if I was being honest.

That had always been my way, though. Making decisions was the painful part for me, the part I agonized over. But once the decision was made, I simply followed through - usually with relief that the choice was made. Sometimes the relief was tainted by despair, like my decision to come to Forks. But it was still better than wrestling with the alternatives.

This decision was ridiculously easy to live with. Dangerously easy.

And so the day was quiet, productive - I finished my paper before eight. Charlie came home with a large catch, and I made a mental note to pick up a book of recipes for fish while I was in Seattle next week. The chills that flashed up my spine whenever I thought of that trip were no different than the ones I'd felt before I'd taken my walk with Julie Black. They should be different, I thought. I should be afraid - I knew I should be, but I couldn't feel the right kind of fear.

I slept dreamlessly that night, exhausted from beginning my day so early and sleeping so poorly the night before. I woke, for the second time since arriving in Forks, to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. I skipped to the window, stunned to see that there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and those there were just fleecy little white puffs that couldn't possibly be carrying any rain. I opened the window - surprised when it opened silently, without sticking, not having opened it in who knows how many years - and sucked in the relatively dry air. It was nearly warm and hardly windy at all. My blood was electric in my veins.

Charlie was finishing breakfast when I came downstairs, and he picked up on my mood immediately.

"Nice day out," he commented.

"Yes," I agreed with a grin.

He smiled back, his brown eyes crinkling around the edges. When Charlie smiled, it was easier to see why he and my mother had jumped too quickly into an early marriage. Most of the young romantic he'd been in those days had faded before I'd known him, as the curly brown hair - the same color, if not the same texture, as mine - had dwindled, slowly revealing more and more of the shiny skin of his forehead. But when he smiled I could see a little of the man who had run away with Renée when she was just two years older than I was now.

I ate breakfast cheerily, watching the dust moats stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Charlie called out a goodbye, and I heard the cruiser pull away from the house. I hesitated on my way out the door, hand on my rain jacket. It would be tempting fate to leave it home. With a sigh, I folded it over my arm and stepped out into the brightest light I'd seen in months.

By dint of much elbow grease, I was able to get both windows in the truck almost completely rolled down. I was one of the first ones to school; I hadn't even checked the clock in my hurry to get outside. I parked and headed toward the seldom-used picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. The benches were still a little damp, so I sat on my jacket, glad to have a use for it. My homework was done - the product of a slow social life - but there were a few Trig problems I wasn't sure I had right. I took out my book industriously, but halfway through rechecking the first problem I was daydreaming, watching the sunlight play on the red-barked trees. I sketched inattentively along the margins of my homework. After a few minutes, I suddenly realized I'd drawn five pairs of dark eyes staring out of the page at me. I scrubbed them out with the eraser.

"Bella!" I heard someone call, and it sounded like Mike.

I looked around to realize that the school had become populated while I'd been sitting there, absentminded. Everyone was in t-shirts, some even in shorts though the temperature couldn't be over sixty. Mike was coming toward me in khaki shorts and a striped Rugby shirt, waving.

"Hey, Mike," I called, waving back, unable to be halfhearted on a morning like this.

He came to sit by me, the tidy spikes of his hair shining golden in the light, his grin stretching across his face. He was so delighted to see me, I couldn't help but feel gratified.

"I never noticed before - your hair has red in it," he commented, catching between his fingers a strand that was fluttering in the light breeze.

I smiled politely and moved my head away so my hair slipped through his fingers.  _ Boys _ . "Only in the sun."

"Great day, isn't it?"

"My kind of day," I agreed.

"What did you do yesterday?" His tone was just a bit too proprietary.

"I mostly worked on my essay." I didn't add that I was finished with it - no need to sound smug.

He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh yeah - that's due Thursday, right?"

"Um, Wednesday, I think."

"Wednesday?" He frowned. "That's not good... What are you writing yours on?"

"How Shakespeare’s misogynistic treatment of the women in his plays alters through his career."

He stared at me like I'd just spoken in pig Latin.

"I guess I'll have to get to work on that tonight," he said, deflated. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go out."

"Oh." I was taken off guard, trying not to grimace. Why couldn't I ever have a pleasant conversation with Mike anymore without it getting awkward?

"Well, we could go to dinner or something... and I could work on it later." He smiled at me hopefully.

"Mike..." I hated coming out. It never got easier. "I don't think that would be the best idea."

His face fell. "Why?" he asked, his eyes guarded. My thoughts flickered to Edythe, wondering if that's where his thoughts were as well.

Well, there was an easy way to do this without lying. "I think... and if you ever repeat what I'm saying right now I will cheerfully beat you to death," I threatened, "but I think that would hurt Jessica's feelings."

He was bewildered, obviously not thinking in that direction at all. "Jessica?"

"Really, Mike, are you blind?"

"Oh," he exhaled - clearly dazed. I took advantage of that to make my escape.

"It's time for class, and I can't be late again." I gathered my books up and stuffed them in my bag.

We walked in silence to building three, and his expression was distracted. I hoped whatever thoughts he was immersed in were leading him in the right direction.

When I saw Jessica in Trig, she was bubbling with enthusiasm. She, Angela, and Lauren were going to Port Angeles tonight to go dress shopping for the dance, and she wanted me to come, too, even though I didn't need one. I was indecisive. It would be nice to get out of town with some girlfriends, but Lauren would be there. And who knew what I could be doing tonight... But that was definitely the wrong path to let my mind wander down. Of course I was happy about the sunlight. But that wasn't completely responsible for the euphoric mood I was in, not even close.

So I gave her a maybe, telling her I'd have to talk with Charlie first.

She talked of nothing but the dance on the way to Spanish, continuing as if without an interruption when class finally ended, five minutes late, and we were on our way to lunch. I was far too lost in my own frenzy of anticipation to notice much of what she said. I was painfully eager to see not just Edythe but all the Cullens - to compare them with the new suspicions that plagued my mind. As I crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, I felt the first true tingle of fear slither down my spine and settle in my stomach. Would they be able to know what I was thinking? And then a different feeling jolted through me - would Edythe be waiting to sit with me again?

As was my routine, I glanced first toward the Cullens' table. A shiver of panic trembled in my stomach as I realized it was empty. With dwindling hope, my eyes scoured the rest of the cafeteria, hoping to find her alone, waiting for me. The place was nearly filled - Spanish had made us late - but there was no sign of Edythe or any of his family. Desolation hit me with crippling strength.

I shambled along behind Jessica, not bothering to pretend to listen anymore.

We were late enough that everyone was already at our table. I avoided the empty chair next to Mike in favor of one by Angela. I vaguely noticed that Mike held the chair out politely for Jessica, and that her face lit up in response.

Angela asked a few quiet questions about the  _ Macbeth _ paper, which I answered as naturally as I could while spiraling downward in misery. She, too, invited me to go with them tonight, and I agreed now, grasping at anything to distract myself.

I realized I'd been holding on to a last shred of hope when I entered Biology, saw her empty seat, and felt a new wave of disappointment.

The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. In Gym, we had a lecture on the rules of badminton, the next torture they had lined up for me. But at least it meant I got to sit and listen instead of stumbling around on the court. The best part was the coach didn't finish, so I got another day off tomorrow. Never mind that the day after they would arm me with a racket before unleashing me on the rest of the class.

I was glad to leave campus, so I would be free to pout and mope before I went out tonight with Jessica and company. But right after I walked in the door of Charlie's house, Jessica called to cancel our plans. I tried to be happy that Mike had asked her out to dinner - I really was relieved that he finally seemed to be catching on - but my enthusiasm sounded false in my own ears. She rescheduled our shopping trip for tomorrow night.

Which left me with little in the way of distractions. I had fish marinating for dinner, with a salad and bread left over from the night before, so there was nothing to do there. I spent a focused half hour on homework, but then I was through with that, too. I checked my e-mail, reading the backlog of letters from my mother, getting snippier as they progressed to the present. I sighed and typed a quick response.

_ Mom, _

_ Sorry. I've been out. I went to the beach with some friends. And I had to write a paper. _

My excuses were fairly pathetic, so I gave up on that.

 

_ It's sunny outside today - I know, I'm shocked, too - so I'm going to go outside and soak up as much vitamin D as I can. I love you, _

_ Bella. _

I decided to kill an hour with non-school-related reading. I had a small collection of books that came with me to Forks, and now I grabbed  _ Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea  _ and headed to the backyard, grabbing a ragged old quilt from the linen cupboard at the top of the stairs on my way down.

Outside in Charlie's small, square yard, I folded the quilt in half and laid it in the sunniest part of the yard and dropped on top of it. I flipped through the paperback, waiting for a word or phrase to catch my interest--usually a giant squid or narwhal would work--but today I went through the book twice without finding anything intriguing enough to start reading.

I snapped the book shut, annoyed, and rolled over onto my back. I pushed my sleeves up as high as they would go, and closed my eyes. I would think of nothing but the warmth on my skin, I told myself severely. The breeze was still light, but it blew tendrils of my hair around my face, and that tickled a bit. I pulled all my hair over my head, letting it fan out on the quilt above me, and focused again on the heat that touched my eyelids, my cheekbones, my nose, my lips, my forearms, my neck, soaked through my light shirt...

The next thing I was conscious of was the sound of Charlie's cruiser turning onto the bricks of the driveway. I sat up in surprise, realizing the light was gone, behind the trees, and I had fallen asleep. I looked around, muddled, with the sudden feeling that I wasn't alone.

"Charlie?" I asked. But I could hear his door slamming in front of the house.

I jumped up, foolishly edgy, gathering the now-damp quilt and my book. I ran inside to get some oil heating on the stove, realizing that dinner would be late. Charlie was hanging up his gun belt and stepping out of his boots when I came in.

"Sorry, Dad, dinner's not ready yet - I fell asleep outside." I stifled a yawn.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I wanted to catch the score on the game, anyway."

I watched TV with Charlie after dinner, for something to do. There wasn't anything on I wanted to watch, but he knew I didn't like baseball, so he turned it to some mindless sitcom that neither of us enjoyed. He seemed happy, though, to be doing something together. And it felt good, despite my depression, to make him happy.

"Dad," I said during a commercial, "Jessica and Angela are going to look at dresses for the dance tomorrow night in Port Angeles, and they wanted me to help them choose... do you mind if I go with them?"

"Jessica Stanley?" he asked.

"And Angela Weber." I sighed as I gave him the details.

He was confused. "But you're not going to the dance, right?"

"No, Dad, but I'm helping them find dresses - you know, giving them constructive criticism." I wouldn't have to explain this to a woman.

"Well, okay." He seemed to realize that he was out of his depth with the girlie stuff. "It's a school night, though."

"We'll leave right after school, so we can get back early. You'll be okay for dinner, right?"

"Bells, I fed myself for seventeen years before you got here," he reminded me.

"I don't know how you survived," I muttered, then added more clearly, "I'll leave some things for cold-cut sandwiches in the fridge, okay? Right on top."

It was sunny again in the morning. I awakened with renewed hope that I grimly tried to suppress. I dressed for the warmer weather in a deep blue V-neck blouse - something I'd worn in the dead of winter in Phoenix.

I had planned my arrival at school so that I barely had time to make it to class. With a sinking heart, I circled the full lot looking for a space, while also searching for the silver Volvo that was clearly not there. I parked in the last row and hurried to English, arriving breathless, but subdued, before the final bell.

It was the same as yesterday - I just couldn't keep little sprouts of hope from budding in my mind, only to have them squashed painfully as I searched the lunchroom in vain and sat at my empty Biology table.

The Port Angeles scheme was back on again for tonight and made all the more attractive by the fact that Lauren had other obligations. I was anxious to get out of town so I could stop glancing over my shoulder, hoping to see Edythe appearing out of the blue the way she always did. I vowed to myself that I would be in a good mood tonight and not ruin Angela's or Jessica's enjoyment in the dress hunting. Maybe I could do a little clothes shopping as well. I refused to think that I might be shopping alone in Seattle this weekend, no longer interested in the earlier arrangement. Surely she wouldn't cancel without at least telling me.

After school, Jessica followed me home in her old white Mercury so that I could ditch my books and truck. I brushed through my hair quickly when I was inside, feeling a slight lift of excitement as I contemplated getting out of Forks. I left a note for Charlie on the table, explaining again where to find dinner, switched my scruffy wallet from my school bag to a purse I rarely used, and ran out to join Jessica. We went to Angela's house next, and she was waiting for us. My excitement increased exponentially as we actually drove out of the town limits.


	9. Port Angeles

Jess drove faster than the Chief, so we made it to Port Angeles by four. It had been a while since I'd had a girls' night out, and the estrogen rush was invigorating. We listened to whiny rock songs while Jessica jabbered on about the boys we hung out with. Jessica's dinner with Mike had gone very well, and she was hoping that by Saturday night they would have progressed to the first-kiss stage. I smiled to myself, pleased. Angela was passively happy to be going to the dance, but not really interested in Eric. Jess tried to get her to confess who her type was, but I interrupted with a question about dresses after a bit, to spare her. Angela threw a grateful glance my way.

Port Angeles was a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quaint than Forks. But Jessica and Angela knew it well, so they didn't plan to waste time on the picturesque boardwalk by the bay. Jess drove straight to the one big department store in town, which was a few streets in from the bay area's visitor-friendly face.

The dance was billed as semiformal, and we weren't exactly sure what that meant. Both Jessica and Angela seemed surprised and almost disbelieving when I told them I'd never been to a dance in Phoenix.

"Didn't you ever go with a boyfriend or something?" Jess asked dubiously as we walked through the front doors of the store.

"Really," I tried to convince her, not wanting to confess my dancing problems. "I've never had a boyfriend or anything close. I didn't go out much."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded.

"No one asked me," I answered honestly.

She looked skeptical. "People ask you out here," she reminded me, "and you tell them no." We were in the juniors' section now, scanning the racks for dress-up clothes.

"Well, except for Tyler," Angela amended quietly.

"Excuse me?" I gasped. "What did you say?"

"Tyler told everyone he's taking you to prom," Jessica informed me with suspicious eyes.

"He said what?" I sounded like I was choking.

"I told you it wasn't true," Angela murmured to Jessica.

I was silent, still lost in shock that was quickly turning to irritation. But we had found the dress racks, and now we had work to do.

"That's why Lauren doesn't like you," Jessica giggled while we pawed through the clothes.

I ground my teeth. "Do you think that if I ran him over with my truck he would stop feeling guilty about the accident? That he might give up on making amends and call it even?"

"Maybe," Jess snickered. '"If that's why he's doing this."

The dress selection wasn't large, but both of them found a few things to try on. I sat on a low chair just inside the dressing room, by the three-way mirror, trying to control my fuming.

Jess was torn between two - one a long, strapless, basic black number, the other a knee-length electric blue with spaghetti straps. I encouraged her to go with the blue; why not play up the eyes? Angela chose a pale pink dress that draped around her tall frame nicely and brought out honey tints in her light brown hair. I complimented them both generously and helped by returning the rejects to their racks. The whole process was much shorter and easier than similar trips I'd taken with Renée at home. I guess there was something to be said for limited choices.

We headed over to shoes and accessories. While they tried things on I merely watched and critiqued, not in the mood to shop for myself, though I did need new shoes. The girls'-night high was wearing off in the wake of my annoyance at Tyler, leaving room for the gloom to move back in.

"Angela?" I began, hesitant, while she was trying on a pair of pink strappy heels - she was overjoyed to have a date tall enough that she could wear high heels at all.

Jessica had drifted to the jewelry counter and we were alone.

"Yes?" She held her leg out, twisting her ankle to get a better view of the shoe.

I chickened out. "I like those."

"I think I'll get them - though they'll never match anything but the one dress," she mused.

"Oh, go ahead - they're on sale," I encouraged. She smiled, putting the lid back on a box that contained more practical-looking off-white shoes.

I tried again. "Um, Angela..." She looked up curiously.

"Is it normal for the... Cullens" - I kept my eyes on the shoes - "to be out of school a lot?" I failed miserably in my attempt to sound nonchalant.

"Yes, when the weather is good they go backpacking all the time - even the doctor. They're all real outdoorsy," she told me quietly, examining her shoes, too. She didn't ask one question, let alone the hundreds that Jessica would have unleashed. I was beginning to really like Angela.

"Oh." I let the subject drop as Jessica returned to show us the rhinestone jewelry she'd found to match her silver shoes.

We planned to go to dinner at a little Italian restaurant on the boardwalk, but the dress shopping hadn't taken as long as we'd expected. Jess and Angela were going to take their clothes back to the car and then walk down to the bay. I told them I would meet them at the restaurant in an hour - I wanted to look for a bookstore. They were both willing to come with me, but I encouraged them to go have fun - they didn't know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something I preferred to do alone. They walked off to the car chattering happily, and I headed in the direction Jess pointed out.

I had no trouble finding the bookstore, but it wasn't what I was looking for. The windows were full of crystals, dream-catchers, and books about spiritual healing. I didn't even go inside. Through the glass I could see a fifty-year-old woman with long, gray hair worn straight down her back, clad in a dress right out of the sixties, smiling welcomingly from behind the counter. I decided that was one conversation I could skip. There had to be a normal bookstore in town.

I meandered through the streets, which were filling up with end-of-the-workday traffic, and hoped I was headed toward downtown. I wasn't paying as much attention as I should to where I was going; I was wrestling with despair. I was trying so hard not to think about Edythe, and what Angela had said... and more than anything trying to beat down my hopes for Saturday, fearing a disappointment more painful than the rest, when I looked up to see someone's silver Volvo parked along the street and it all came crashing down on me. Stupid, unreliable vampire, I thought to myself.

I stomped along in a southerly direction, toward some glass-fronted shops that looked promising. But when I got to them, they were just a repair shop and a vacant space. I still had too much time to go looking for Jess and Angela yet, and I definitely needed to get my mood in hand before I met back up with them. I ran my fingers through my hair a couple of times and took some deep breaths before I continued around the corner.

I started to realize, as I crossed another road, that I was going the wrong direction. The little foot traffic I had seen was going north, and it looked like the buildings here were mostly warehouses. I decided to turn east at the next corner, and then loop around after a few blocks and try my luck on a different street on my way back to the boardwalk.

A group of four men turned around the corner I was heading for, dressed too casually to be heading home from the office, but they were too grimy to be tourists. As they approached me, I realized they weren't too many years older than I was. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other's arms. I scooted as far to the inside of the sidewalk as I could to give them room, walking swiftly, looking past them to the corner.

"Hey, there!" one of them called as they passed, and he had to be talking to me since no one else was around. I glanced up automatically. Two of them had paused, the other two were slowing. The closest, a heavyset, dark-haired man in his early twenties, seemed to be the one who had spoken. He was wearing a flannel shirt open over a dirty t-shirt, cut-off jeans, and sandals. He took half a step toward me.

"Hello," I mumbled, a knee-jerk reaction. Then I quickly looked away and walked faster toward the corner. I could hear them laughing at full volume behind me.

"Hey, wait!" one of them called after me again, but I kept my head down and rounded the corner with a sigh of relief. I could still hear them chortling behind me.

I found myself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several somber-colored warehouses, each with large bay doors for unloading trucks, padlocked for the night. The south side of the street had no sidewalk, only a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire protecting some kind of engine parts storage yard. I'd wandered far past the part of Port Angeles that I, as a guest, was intended to see. It was getting dark, I realized, the clouds finally returning, piling up on the western horizon, creating an early sunset. The eastern sky was still clear, but graying, shot through with streaks of pink and orange. I'd left my jacket in the car, and a sudden shiver made me cross my arms tightly across my chest. A single van passed me, and then the road was empty.

The sky suddenly darkened further, and, as I looked over my shoulder to glare at the offending cloud, I realized with a shock that two men were walking quietly twenty feet behind me.

They were from the same group I'd passed at the corner, though neither was the dark one who'd spoken to me. I turned my head forward at once, quickening my pace. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather made me shiver again. My purse was on a shoulder strap and I had it slung across my body, the way you were supposed to wear it so it wouldn't get snatched. I knew exactly where my pepper spray was - still in my duffle bag under the bed, never unpacked. I didn't have much money with me, just a twenty and some ones, and I thought about "accidentally" dropping my bag and walking away. But a small, frightened voice in the back of my mind warned me that they might be something worse than thieves.

I listened intently to their quiet footsteps, which were much too quiet when compared to the boisterous noise they'd been making earlier, and it didn't sound like they were speeding up, or getting any closer to me. Breathe, I had to remind myself. You don't know they're following you. I continued to walk as quickly as I could without actually running, focusing on the right-hand turn that was only a few yards away from me now. I could hear them, staying as far back as they'd been before. A blue car turned onto the street from the south and drove quickly past me. I thought of jumping out in front of it, but I hesitated, inhibited, unsure that I was really being pursued, and then it was too late.

I reached the corner, but a swift glance revealed that it was only a blind drive to the back of another building. I was half-turned in anticipation; I had to hurriedly correct and dash across the narrow drive, back to the sidewalk. The street ended at the next corner, where there was a stop sign. I concentrated on the faint footsteps behind me, deciding whether or not to run. They sounded farther back, though, and I knew they could outrun me in any case. I was sure to trip and go sprawling if I tried to go any faster. The footfalls were definitely farther back. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder, and they were maybe forty feet back now, I saw with relief. But they were both staring at me.

It seemed to take forever for me to get to the corner. I kept my pace steady, the men behind me falling ever so slightly farther behind with every step. Maybe they realized they had scared me and were sorry. I saw two cars going north pass the intersection I was heading for, and I exhaled in relief. There would be more people around once I got off this deserted street. I skipped around the corner with a grateful sigh.

And skidded to a stop.

The street was lined on both sides by blank, doorless, windowless walls. I could see in the distance, two intersections down, streetlamps, cars, and more pedestrians, but they were all too far away. Because lounging against the western building, midway down the street, were the other two men from the group, both watching with excited smiles as I froze dead on the sidewalk. I realized then that I wasn't being followed.

I was being herded.

I paused for only a second, but it felt like a very long time. I turned then and darted to the other side of the road. I had a sinking feeling that it was a wasted attempt. The footsteps behind me were louder now.

"There you are!" The booming voice of the stocky, dark-haired man shattered the intense quiet and made me jump. In the gathering darkness, it seemed like he was looking past me.

"Yeah," a voice called loudly from behind me, making me jump again as I tried to hurry down the street. "We just took a little detour."

My steps had to slow now. I was closing the distance between myself and the lounging pair too quickly. I had a good loud scream, and I sucked in air, preparing to use it, but my throat was so dry I wasn't sure how much volume I could manage. With a quick movement I slipped my purse over my head, gripping the strap with one hand, ready to surrender it or use it as weapon as need demanded.

The thickset man shrugged away from the wall as I warily came to a stop, and walked slowly into the street.

"Stay away from me," I warned in a voice that was supposed to sound strong and fearless. But I was right about the dry throat - no volume.

"Don't be like that, sugar," he called, and the raucous laughter started again behind me.

I braced myself, feet apart, trying to remember through my panic what little self-defense I knew. Heel of the hand thrust upward, hopefully breaking the nose or shoving it into the brain. Finger through the eye socket - try to hook around and pop the eye out. And the standard knee to the groin, of course. That same pessimistic voice in my mind spoke up then, reminding me that I probably wouldn't have a chance against one of them, and there were four. Shut up! I commanded the voice before terror could incapacitate me. I wasn't going out without taking someone with me. I tried to swallow so I could build up a decent scream.

Headlights suddenly flew around the corner, the car almost hitting the stocky one, forcing him to jump back toward the sidewalk. I dove into the road - this car was going to stop, or have to hit me. But the silver car unexpectedly fishtailed around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door open just a few feet from me.

"Get in," a furious voice hissed.

It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me - even before I was off the street - as soon as I heard her voice. I jumped into the seat, slamming the door shut behind me.

It was dark in the car, no light had come on with the opening of the door, and I could barely see her face in the glow from the dashboard. The tires squealed as she spun around to face north, accelerating too quickly, swerving toward the stunned men on the street. I caught a glimpse of them diving for the sidewalk as we straightened out and sped toward the harbor.

"Put on your seat belt," she commanded, and I realized I was clutching the seat with both hands. I quickly obeyed; the snap as the belt connected was loud in the darkness. She took a sharp left, racing forward, blowing through several stop signs without a pause.

But I felt utterly safe and, for the moment, totally unconcerned about where we were going. I stared at her face in profound relief, relief that went beyond my sudden deliverance. I studied her flawless features in the limited light, waiting for my breath to return to normal, until it occurred to me that her expression was murderously angry.

"Are you okay?" I asked, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded.

"No," she said curtly, and her tone was livid.

I sat in silence, watching her face while her blazing eyes stared straight ahead, until the car came to a sudden stop. I glanced around, but it was too dark to see anything beside the vague outline of dark trees crowding the roadside. We weren't in town anymore.

"Bella?" she asked, her voice tight, controlled.

"Yes?" My voice was still rough. I tried to clear my throat quietly.

"Are you all right?" She still didn't look at me, but the fury was plain on her face.

"Yes," I croaked softly.

"Distract me, please," she ordered, eyes tight and and still looking straight ahead.

"I'm sorry, what?"

She exhaled sharply.

"Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," she clarified, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

"Um." I wracked my brain for something trivial. "I'm going to run over Tyler Crowley tomorrow before school?"

She was still squeezing her eyes closed, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

"Why?"

"He's telling everyone that he's taking me to prom - either he's insane or he's still trying to make up for almost killing me last... well, you remember it, and he thinks prom is somehow the correct way to do this. So I figure if I endanger his life, then we're even, and he can't keep trying to make amends. I don't need enemies and maybe Lauren would back off if he left me alone. I might have to total his Sentra, though. If he doesn't have a ride he can't take anyone to prom..." I babbled on.

"I heard about that." Edythe sounded a bit more composed.

"You did?" I asked in disbelief, my previous irritation flaring. "If he's paralyzed from the neck down, he can't go to the prom, either," I muttered, refining my plan.

Edythe sighed, and finally opened her eyes.

"Better?"

"Not really."

I waited, but she didn't speak again. She leaned her head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car. Her face was rigid.

"What's wrong?" My voice came out in a whisper.

"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella." She was whispering, too, and as she stared out the window, her eyes narrowed into slits. "But it wouldn't be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those..." She didn't finish his sentence, looking away, struggling for a moment to control her anger again. "At least," she continued, "that's what I'm trying to convince myself."

"Oh." The word seemed inadequate, but I couldn't think of a better response. 

We sat in silence again. I looked at Edythe, watching as the tension in her face started to relax until it was as smooth and blank as a statue. A beautiful statue, carved by an artistic genius. Aphrodite, maybe. Or Artemis, what with her thoughts about hunting.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was past six-thirty.

"Jessica and Angela will be worried," I murmured. "I was supposed to meet them."

She started the engine without another word, turning around smoothly and speeding back toward town. We were under the streetlights in no time at all, still going too fast, weaving with ease through the cars slowly cruising the boardwalk. She parallel-parked against the curb in a space I would have thought much too small for the Volvo, but she slid in effortlessly in one try. I looked out the window to see the lights of La Bella Italia, and Jess and Angela just leaving, pacing anxiously away from us.

"How did you know where... ?" I began, but then I just shook my head. I heard the door open and turned to see her getting out.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to dinner." She smiled slightly, but her eyes were still hard. She stepped out of the car and slammed the door. I fumbled with my seatbelt, and then hurried to get out of the car as well. Edythe was waiting for me on the sidewalk.

She spoke before I could. "Go stop Jessica and Angela before I have to track them down, too. I don't think I could restrain myself if I ran into your other friends again."

I shivered at the threat in her silky voice.

"Jess! Angela!" I yelled after them, waving when they turned. They rushed back to me, the pronounced relief on both their faces simultaneously changing to surprise as they saw who I was standing next to. They hesitated a few feet from us.

"Where have you been?" Jessica's voice was suspicious.

"I got lost," I admitted sheepishly. "And then I ran into Edythe." I gestured toward her. She gave a little finger wave.

Jessica and Angela stared, eyes wide. Angela got her wits back first--I knew I liked her. 

"Oh, Bella, we ate while we were waiting - sorry," Angela confessed.

"That's fine - I'm not hungry." I shrugged.

"I think you should eat something." Edythe's voice was low, but full of authority. She looked up at Jessica and spoke slightly louder. "Do you mind if I drive Bella home tonight? That way you won't have to wait while she eats."

"Uh, no problem, I guess..." Jessica bit her lip, trying to figure out from my expression whether that was what I wanted. I smiled encouragingly. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with my perpetual savior. There were so many questions that I couldn't bombard her with till we were by ourselves.

"Okay." Once again, Angela was quicker than Jessica. "See you tomorrow, Bella... Edythe." She grabbed Jessica's hand and pulled her toward the car, which I could see a little ways away, parked across First Street. As they got in, Jess turned and waved, her face eager with curiosity. I waved back, waiting for them to drive away before I turned to face Edythe.

"Honestly, I'm not hungry," I insisted, looking up to scrutinize her face. Her expression was unreadable. 

"Humor me."

She walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression. Obviously, there would be no further discussion. I walked past her into the restaurant with a resigned sigh, but my heart was jumping. Was this...a date?

The restaurant wasn't crowded - it was the off-season in Port Angeles. The host was a meticulously groomed man a few years older than us, reasonably good looking but with obviously terrible manners. His eyes bugged out for a second when he saw Edythe before he got control of his expression. Then he smiled a wide, smarmy smile and did a stupid little bow for her. I was pretty sure he didn’t know I was standing there next to her.

“What can I do for you?” he asked as he straightened up, still focused on Edythe.

“A table for two, please.” I was relieved that Edythe’s voice was polite, but distant.

For the first time, he seemed to realize I was there. The look he gave me was quick and dismissive and made me  _ furious _ .

“Of course,  _ mademoiselle _ .” He and led us to a table big enough for four in the center of the most crowded area of the dining floor.

I was about to sit, but Edythe shook her head at me.

"Perhaps something more private?" she insisted quietly to the host. I wasn't sure, but it looked like she smoothly handed him a tip. I'd never seen anyone refuse a table except in old movies.

"Of course." The host sounded as surprised as I was. He turned and led us around a partition to a small ring of booths - all of them empty. "How's this?"

"Perfect." Edythe flashed her brilliant smile and perfect dimples at him.

Like a deer in headlights, the host froze for a long second before shaking his head dazedly. "Um," he said, blinking, "your server will be right out." He walked away unsteadily.

"Do you do that on purpose?" I asked. She was beautiful and that wasn’t her fault, but purposefully dazzling people wasn’t very nice. "It's hardly fair."

"Do what?"

"Whatever the thing you do is--with the dimples and the hypnotizing. He’s probably walking into walls back there."

She half-smiled. “I do a  _ thing _ ?”

"Oh, come on," I said dubiously. "You have to know the effect you have on people."

“I suppose I can think of a few effects…” Her expression went dark for a second, but then it cleared and she smiled at me. “But no one’s ever accused me of hypnotism by dimples before.” I blushed furiously as Edythe continued, “Does it work on you--this  _ thing _ you think I do?”

"Every time," I admitted.

And then our server arrived, her face expectant. The host had definitely dished behind the scenes, and this girl didn't look disappointed. She flipped a strand of short black hair behind one ear and smiled with unnecessary warmth.

"Hello. My name is Amber, and I'll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?" I didn't miss that she was speaking only to her.

Edythe looked at me.

"I'll have a Coke." It sounded like a question.

"Two Cokes," she said, and, glancing at me, turned to face the server and smiled a wide, dimpled smile right into her face.

Amber actually wobbled, like she was trying not to fall over. 

Edythe pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. The waitress shook her head and blinked, trying to reorient. I was almost sympathetic.

“And a menu?” Edythe added when the server didn’t move.”

“Yes, of course,” the server said in a shaky, but unnecessarily warm voice. “I’ll be right back with that.” She was still shaking her head as she walked out of sight.

“You’ve seriously never noticed that before?” I asked her. Any woman or girl would notice unwanted attention, but this seemed to be something else entirely.

“It’s been a while since I cared what anyone thought of me,” she said. “And I don’t usually smile so much.” As if to illustrate a point, her face turned serious.

"What?" I asked.

Her eyes stayed fixed on my face. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I replied, surprised by her intensity.

"You don't feel dizzy, sick, cold... ?"

"Should I?"

She chuckled at my puzzled tone.

"Well, I'm actually waiting for you to go into shock." Her face twisted up into that perfect dimpled smile.

"I don't think that will happen," I said after I could breathe again. "I've always been very good at repressing unpleasant things."

"Just the same, I'll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you."

Right on cue, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. She stood with her back to me as she placed them on the table and handed a menu to Edythe. Edythe, her experiments done, didn’t so much as look at her this time. She just pushed the menu across the table to me.

Amber cleared her throat nervously. “Um, there are a few specials. We have a mushroom ravioli and--”

“I’ll have that,” I interrupted. The waitress turned to me, startled, before returning her attention to Edythe.

"And you?" she asked with a smile.

"Nothing for me," Edythe said. Of course not.

"Let me know if you change your mind." The coy smile was still in place, but Edythe wasn't looking at her, and she left dissatisfied.

"Drink," she ordered.

I sipped at my soda obediently, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was. I realized I had finished the whole thing when she pushed her glass toward me.

"Thanks," I muttered, still thirsty. The cold from the icy soda was radiating through my chest, and I shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"It's just the Coke," I explained, shivering again.

"Don't you have a jacket?" Her voice was disapproving.

"Yes." I looked at the empty bench next to me. "Oh - I left it in Jessica's car," I realized.

Edythe was shrugging out of her jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never once noticed what she was wearing - not just tonight, but ever. The only thing I could remember was the black gown from my nightmare...but although I hadn’t processed the particulars, I knew that in reality she always wore light colors, like tonight. Underneath the pale gray motorcycle jacket she was removing, she wore an ivory turtleneck sweater. I was pretty sure she usually kept her skin covered, which made me think of the deep V of the black dream gown again, which was a mistake. I started to blush.

She handed me the jacket, interrupting my ogling.

"Thanks," I said again, sliding my arms into her jacket. It was cold - the way my jacket felt when I first picked it up in the morning, hanging in the drafty hallway. I shivered again. It smelled amazing. I inhaled, trying to identify the delicious scent. It didn't smell like perfume. The sleeves were just an inch too long; I shoved them back so I could free my hands.

"That the blue of your shirt looks lovely with your skin," she said, watching me. I flushed even more dramatically.

He pushed the bread basket toward me.

"Really, I'm not going into shock," I protested.

"Humor me?" She stared into my eyes and dimpled again, and I saw how light her eyes were, lighter than I'd ever seen them, golden butterscotch.

“Ugh,” I grumbled as I grabbed a breadstick.

“Good girl,” she purred, and I think I might have squeaked.

“I don’t know how you can be so blasé about this,” she said. “You don’t even look shaken. A normal person.”

"I feel very safe with you," I confessed, mesmerized into telling the truth again.

She frowned. "This is more complicated than I'd planned," she murmured to herself.

I picked up another breadstick and began nibbling on the end, measuring her expression. She was still frowning, but I decided it was probably okay to start questioning her now.

“So,” I started, and Edythe’s pale eyes snapped to mine. “Do you ever consider answering my questions, or is that not on the table?”

“It depends on the question.”

“Tell me one I’m allowed to ask.”

But then the waitress strode around the partition with my food. I realized we'd been unconsciously leaning toward each other across the table, because we both straightened up as she approached. She set the dish in front of me - it looked pretty good - and turned quickly to Edythe.

"Did you change your mind?" she asked. "Isn't there anything I can get you?" I may have been imagining the double meaning in her words.

"No, thank you, but some more soda would be nice." Edythe gestured with a delicate white hand to the empty cups in front of me without looking away from my face.

The waitress stared at me now, and I could tell she was wondering why someone like Edythe would be looking at someone like me that way. Well, it was a mystery to me, too. She removed the empty glasses and walked away.

“I imagine you have a lot of questions for me,” Edythe murmured.

“Maybe one or two thousand,” I replied.

“How about I ask you one first?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, surprised at the deal.

“Tell me another theory,” she said, and there was amusement behind her eyes now.

I froze. What could I say? Had I made progress, or just stumbled into another theory even more stupid than radioactive spiders? How could I say that word out loud, when I’d been trying to not think about it all night?

I don’t know what my face looked like, but Edythe’s expression suddenly softened. “That bad, huh?” she asked.

“Can I--can we not talk about it here?” I glanced around the restaurant.

“Very bad,” she murmured, half to herself. There was something very sad and almost... _ old _ about her eyes. Tired, defeated. I hated myself for having caused this expression on her alabaster face.

“Besides,” I said, hastily, trying to make my voice light. “If I answer your question, I won’t have any way to convince you to answer mine. You never do. So--you first.”

Her face relaxed. “An exchange, then?”

I beamed. “Yes.”

The waitress returned then with two more Cokes. She sat them down without a word this time, and left again.

I took a sip.

"Well, go ahead," she said. “But no promises.”

I started with the most undemanding. Or so I thought. "Why are you in Port Angeles?"

She looked down, folding her hands together slowly on the table. Her eyes flickered up at me from under his lashes, the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Next."

"But that's the easiest one," I objected.

"Next," she repeated, shrugging slightly.

I looked down, frustrated. I unrolled my silverware, picked up my fork, and carefully speared a ravioli. I put it in my mouth slowly, still looking down, chewing while I thought. The mushrooms were good. I swallowed and took another sip of Coke before I looked up.

"Okay, then." I glared at her, and continued slowly. "Let's say, hypothetically of course, that... someone... could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know - with a few exceptions."

"Just one exception," she corrected, "hypothetically."

"All right, with one exception, then." I was thrilled that she was playing along, but I tried to seem casual.

"How does that work? What are the limitations? How would... that someone... find someone else at exactly the right time? How would one know she was in trouble?" I wondered if my convoluted questions even made sense.

"Hypothetically?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Well, if... that someone..."

"Let's call her 'Jane,'" I suggested.

He smiled wryly. "Jane, then. If jane had been paying attention, the timing wouldn't have needed to be quite so exact." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Only you could get into trouble in a town this small. You would have devastated their crime rate statistics for a decade, you know."

"We were speaking of a hypothetical case," I reminded her frostily.

She laughed at me, her eyes warm.

"Yes, we were," she agreed. "Shall we call you 'Betty'?"

"How did you know?" I asked, unable to curb my intensity. I realized I was leaning toward her again.

She seemed to be wavering, torn by some internal dilemma. Her eyes locked with mine, and I guessed she was making the decision right then whether or not to simply tell me the truth.

"You can trust me, you know," I murmured. I reached forward, without thinking, to touch her folded hands, but she slid them away minutely, and I pulled my hand back.

"I don't know if I have a choice anymore." Her voice was almost a whisper. "I was wrong - you're much more observant than I gave you credit for."

"I thought you were always right."

"I used to be." She shook her head again. "I was wrong about you on one other thing, as well. You're not a magnet for accidents - that's not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you."

"And you put yourself into that category?" I guessed.

Her face turned cold, expressionless. "Unequivocally."

I stretched my hand across the table again - ignoring her when she pulled back slightly once more - to touch the back of her hand shyly with my fingertips. Her skin was cold and hard, like a stone.

"Thank you." My voice was fervent with gratitude. "That's twice now."

Her face softened. "Let's not try for three, agreed?"

I scowled, but nodded. She moved his hand out from under mine, placing both of hers under the table. But she leaned toward me, so I hoped I hadn’t crossed a boundary.

"I followed you to Port Angeles," she admitted, speaking in a rush. "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." She paused. I wondered if it should bother me that she was following me; instead I felt a strange surge of pleasure. She stared, maybe wondering why my lips were curving into an involuntary smile.

"Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and that you've been interfering with fate?" I speculated, distracting myself.

"That wasn't the first time," Edythe said, and her voice was hard to hear. I stared at her in amazement, but she was looking down. "Your number was up the first time I met you."

I felt a spasm of fear at her words, and the abrupt memory of her violent black glare that first day... but the overwhelming sense of safety I felt in her presence stifled it. By the time she looked up to read my eyes, there was no trace of fear in them.

"You remember?" she asked, her angel's face grave. “You understand?”

"Yes." I was calm.

"And yet here you sit." There was a trace of disbelief in his voice; she raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, here I sit... because of you." I paused. "Because somehow you knew how to find me today... ?" I prompted.

Edythe pressed her lips together, staring at me through narrowed eyes, deciding again. Her eyes flashed down to my full plate, and then back to me.

"You eat, I'll talk," she bargained.

I quickly scooped up another ravioli and popped it in my mouth.

"It's harder than it should be - keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before." She looked at me anxiously, and I realized I had frozen. I made myself swallow, then stabbed another ravioli and tossed it in.

"I was keeping tabs on Jessica, not carefully - like I said, only you could find trouble in Port Angeles - and at first I didn't notice when you took off on your own. Then, when I realized that you weren't with her anymore, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell that you hadn't gone in, and that you'd gone south... and I knew you would have to turn around soon. So I was just waiting for you, randomly searching through the thoughts of people on the street - to see if anyone had noticed you so I would know where you were. I had no reason to be worried... but I was strangely anxious..." She was lost in thought, staring past me, seeing things I couldn't imagine.

"I started to drive in circles, still... listening. The sun was finally setting, and I was about to get out and follow you on foot. And then -" She stopped, clenching her teeth together in sudden fury. She made an effort to calm herself.

"Then what?" I whispered. She continued to stare past me.

"I heard what they were thinking," she growled, her upper lip curling slightly back over her perfect teeth. "I saw your face in his mind." She suddenly leaned forward, one elbow appearing on the table, her hand covering her eyes. The movement was so swift it startled me.

"It was very... hard - you can't imagine how hard - for me to simply take you away, and leave them... alive." Her voice was muffled by her arm. "I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them," she admitted in a whisper.

I sat quietly, dazed, my thoughts incoherent. My hands were folded in my lap, and I was leaning weakly against the back of the seat. Edythe still had her face in his hand, and she was as still as if she'd been carved from the marble her skin resembled.

Finally she looked up, her eyes seeking mine, full of her own questions.

"Are you ready to go home?" she asked.

"I'm ready to leave," I qualified, overly grateful that we had the hour-long ride home together. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to her.

The waitress appeared as if she'd been called. Or watching.

"How are we doing?" she asked Edythe.

"We're ready for the check, thank you." Her voice was quiet, rougher, still reflecting the strain of our conversation. It seemed to muddle the waitress. Edythe looked up, waiting.

"S-sure," she stuttered. "Here you go." She pulled a small leather folder from the front pocket of her black apron and handed it to Edythe.

There was a bill in Edythe’s hand already. She slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to Amber.

"No change." Edythe smiled. Then she stood up, and I scrambled awkwardly to my feet.

The server smiled invitingly at her again. "You have a nice evening."

Edythe didn't look away from me as she thanked her. I suppressed a smile.

She walked close beside me to the door, still careful not to touch me. I remembered what Jessica had said about her relationship with Mike, how they were almost to the first-kiss stage. I sighed. Edythe seemed to hear me, and she looked down curiously. I looked at the sidewalk, grateful that she didn't seem to be able to know what I was thinking.

She opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. No one had done that for me before, and I wasn’t sure I would like it from anyone but her. I watched her walk around the front of the car, amazed, yet again, by how graceful she was. I probably should have been used to that by now - but I wasn't. I had a feeling Edythe wasn't the kind of person anyone got used to.

Once inside the car, she started the engine and turned the heater on high. It had gotten very cold, and I guessed the good weather was at an end. I was warm in her jacket, though, breathing in the scent of it when I thought she couldn't see.

Edythe pulled out through the traffic, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head toward the freeway.

"Now," she said significantly, "it's your turn."


	10. Theory

"Can I ask just one more?" I pleaded as Edythe accelerated much too quickly down the quiet street. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to the road.

She sighed. “We had a deal.”

“It’s not really a question,” I argued. “Just a clarification, really.”

She rolled her eyes. “Make it quick.”

"Well... you said you knew I hadn't gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you knew that."

She thought about it for a moment, deliberating again.

"I thought we were past all the evasiveness," I grumbled.

She gave me a kind of  _ you asked for it _ look, but there was a bit of a smile behind it.

"Fine, then. I followed your scent." She looked at the road, giving me time to compose my face. I couldn't think of an acceptable response to that, but I filed it carefully away for future study. I tried to refocus. I wasn't ready to let her be finished, now that she was finally explaining things.

"And then you didn't answer one of my first questions..." I stalled.

“Oh, come on. Which one?"

"How does it work - the mind-reading thing? Can you read anybody's mind, anywhere? How do you do it? Can the rest of your family... ?" I felt silly, asking for clarification on make-believe.

"That's more than one," she pointed out. I simply intertwined my fingers and gazed at her, waiting. It was easier to talk about this in the dark car. The streetlights were behind us already, and in the low gleam from the dashboard, all the crazy stuff seemed just a little more possible.

"No, it's just me. And I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone's... 'voice' is, the farther away I can hear them. But still, no more than a few miles." She paused thoughtfully. "It's a little like being in a huge hall filled with people, everyone talking at once. It's just a hum - a buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they're thinking is clear.

"Most of the time I tune it all out - it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem  _ normal _ " - she frowned as he said the word - "when I'm not accidentally answering someone's thoughts rather than their words."

"Why do you think you can't hear me?" I asked curiously.

She looked at me, her eyes enigmatic.

"I don't know," she murmured. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." She grinned at me, suddenly amused.

"My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?" The words bothered me more than they should - probably because her speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed.

"I hear voices in my mind and you're worried that you're the freak," she laughed. "Don't worry, it's just a theory..." Her face tightened. "Which brings us back to you."

I sighed. How to begin?

"Aren't we past all the evasions now?" she reminded me softly.

I looked away from her face for the first time, trying to find words. I happened to notice the speedometer.

"Holy crow!" I shouted. "Slow down!"

"What's wrong?" She was startled. But the car didn't decelerate.

"You're going a hundred miles an hour!" I was still shouting. I shot a panicky glance out the window, but it was too dark to see much. The road was only visible in the long patch of bluish brightness from the headlights. The forest along both sides of the road was like a black wall - as hard as a wall of steel if we veered off the road at this speed.

"Relax, Bella." She rolled her eyes, still not slowing.

"Are you trying to kill us?" I demanded.

"We're not going to crash."

I tried to modulate my voice. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I always drive like this." She turned to smile crookedly at me.

"Keep your eyes on the road!"

"I've never been in an accident, Bella - I've never even gotten a ticket." She grinned and tapped her forehead. "Built-in radar detector."

"Very funny." I fumed. "Charlie's a cop, remember? I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away."

"Probably," she agreed with a short, hard laugh. "But you can't." She sighed, and I watched with relief as the needle gradually drifted toward eighty. "Happy?"

"Almost."

"I hate driving slow,"s he muttered.

"This is slow?"

"Enough commentary on my driving," she snapped. "I'm still waiting for your latest theory."

I bit my lip. She looked down at me, her honey eyes unexpectedly gentle.

"I won't laugh," she promised.

"I'm more afraid that you'll be angry with me, or upset. Unhappy."

"Is it that bad?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

She lifted her hand off of the gearshift and held it out toward me--just a few inches. An offer. I glanced up quickly, to make sure I understood, and her eyes were soft.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I can handle it.”

“I took her hand, and she curled her fingers very lightly around mine for one short, glorious second, then dropped her hand back to the gearshift.

"I don't know how to start," I admitted.

"Why don't you start at the beginning? How did you come up with it?"

"It was Saturday, at the beach." I risked a glance up at her face. She looked puzzled.

"I ran into an old family friend--Julie Black," I continued. "Her mom, Bonnie, and Charlie have been friends since I was a baby."

Edythe still looked confused.

"Bonnie’s one of the Quileute elders..." I watched her carefully. Her confused expression froze in place. "Julie and I went for a walk, and she was telling me some old legends. She told me one..." I hesitated.

"Go on," Edythe said.

"About vampires." I realized I was whispering. I couldn't look at her face now. But I saw her knuckles tighten convulsively on the wheel.

"And you immediately thought of me?" Still calm.

"No. Jules... mentioned your family."

She was silent, staring at the road.

I was worried suddenly, worried about protecting Julie.

"She just thought it was a silly superstition," I said quickly. "She didn't expect me to think anything of it." 

We drove in silence for another minute, and the word  _ vampire _ seemed to get bigger and bigger inside the car. It didn’t feel like it belonged to her, really, but more like it had the power to hurt her. I tried to think of something else to say, but before I could come up with anything, Edythe spoke.

"What did you do then?" she asked after a minute.

"I did some research on the Internet."

"And did that convince you?" She was very matter-of-fact now.

"No. Nothing fit. Most of it was kind of silly. And then..." I stopped.

"What?"

"I decided it didn't matter," I whispered.

Her eyes grew wider and wider and then suddenly they were narrowed into little slits, glaring at me. I didn’t want to point out that she should probably be watching where she was going, but her speed had crept back up to ninety-five now, and she seemed totally unaware of the twisting road ahead of us.

“Er, Edythe--”

"It didn't matter?" she half-shouted at me, her voice going shrill and almost...metallic. “It  _ doesn’t matter _ ?”

"No," I said softly. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."

"You don't care if I'm a monster? If I'm  _ not human _ ?"

"No."

Finally she stared at the road again, her eyes still long slashes of anger across her face. 

"You're angry," I sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," she said, but her tone was as hard as her face. "I'd rather know what you're thinking - even if what you're thinking is insane."

"So I'm wrong again?" I challenged.

"That's not what I was referring to. 'It doesn't matter'!" she quoted, gritting her teeth together.

"I'm right?" I gasped.

"Does it matter?" she challenged.

I took a deep breath.

"Not really." I paused. "But I am curious." My voice, at least, was composed.

“Spit it out, Bella."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she answered promptly.

"And how long have you been seventeen?"

Her lips twitched as she stared at the road. "A while," she admitted at last.

"Okay." I smiled, pleased that she was still being honest with me. She stared down at me with watchful eyes, much as she had before, when she was worried I would go into shock. I smiled wider in encouragement, and she frowned.

"Don't laugh - but how can you come out during the daytime?"

She laughed anyway. "Myth."

The sound of her laughter made me warm. It made me feel like I had swallowed a bunch of sunlight. My smile got bigger.

"Burned by the sun?"

"Myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth." She hesitated for a moment, then added softly, "I can't sleep."

It took me a minute to absorb that. "At all?"

"Never," she murmured, her voice nearly inaudible. She turned to look at me with a wistful expression. The golden eyes held mine, and I lost my train of thought. I stared at her until she looked away.

"You haven't asked me the most important question yet." Her voice was hard again.

I blinked, still dazed. "Which one is that?"

"You aren't concerned about my diet?" she asked, mocking.

"Oh," I murmured, "that."

"Yes, that,” she said bleakly. "Don't you want to know if I drink blood?"

I flinched. "Well, Jules said something about that."

"What did  _ Jules _ say?" she asked flatly.

"She said you didn't... hunt people. She said your family wasn't supposed to be dangerous because you only hunted animals."

"She said we weren't dangerous?" Edythe’s voice was deeply skeptical.

"Not exactly. Jules said you weren't  _ supposed _ to be dangerous. But the Quileutes still didn't want you on their land, just in case."

She looked forward, but I couldn't tell if she was watching the road or not.

"So was she right? About not hunting people?" I tried to keep my voice as even as possible.

"The Quileutes have a long memory," she whispered.

I took it as a confirmation.

"Don't let that make you complacent, though," she warned me. "They're right to keep their distance from us. We are still dangerous."

"I don't understand."

"We try," she explained slowly. "We're usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you."

"This is a mistake?" I heard the sadness in my voice, but I didn't know if she could as well.

"A very dangerous one," she murmured.

We were both silent then. I watched the headlights twist with the curves of the road. They moved too fast; it didn't look real, it looked like a video game. I was aware of the time slipping away so quickly, like the black road beneath us, and I was hideously afraid that I would never have another chance to be with her like this again - openly, the walls between us gone for once. Her words hinted at an end, and I recoiled from the idea. I couldn't waste one minute I had with her.

"Tell me more," I asked desperately, not caring what he said, just so I could hear her voice again.

She looked at me quickly, startled by the change in my tone. "What more do you want to know?"

"Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people," I suggested, my voice still tinged with desperation. I realized my eyes were wet, and I fought against the grief that was trying to overpower me.

"I don't want to be a monster." Her voice was very low.

"But animals aren't enough?"

She paused. "I can't be sure, of course, but I'd compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. It doesn't completely satiate the hunger - or rather thirst. But it keeps us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." Her tone turned ominous. "Sometimes it's more difficult than others."

"Is it very difficult for you now?" I asked.

She sighed. "Yes."

"But you're not hungry now," I said confidently - stating, not asking.

"Why do you think that?"

"Your eyes. I have a theory about that. It seems like the color is linked to your mood--and people are generally crabbier when they’re hungry, right?”

She laughed. "You are observant, aren't you?"

I didn't answer; I just listened to the sound of her laugh, committing it to memory.

“So everything I thought I saw--that day with the truck. That all happened for real. You  _ caught _ the truck.”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

“How strong are you?”

Edythe glanced at me from the side of her eye. “Strong enough. But I’m not much into feats of strength. They just make Eleanor competitive, and I’ll never be  _ that  _ strong.”

“How strong?”

“Honestly, if she wanted to, I think she could lift a mountain over her head. But I would never say that around her, because then she would have to try.” Edythe laughed, and it was a relaxed sound. Affectionate.

"Were you hunting this weekend, with Eleanor?" I asked when it was quiet again.

"Yes." She paused for a second, as if deciding whether or not to say something. "I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty."

"Why didn't you want to leave?"

"It makes me... anxious... to be away from you." Her eyes were gentle, but intense, and they seemed to be making my bones turn soft. "I wasn't joking when I asked you to try not to fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed." She shook her head, and then seemed to remember something. "Well, not totally unscathed."

"What?"

"Your hands," she reminded me. I looked down at my palms, at the almost-healed scrapes across the heels of my hands. She missed nothing.

"I fell," I sighed.

"That's what I thought." Her lips curved up at the corners. "I suppose, being you, it could have been much worse - and that possibility tormented me the entire time I was away. It was a very long three days. I really got on Eleanor’s nerves." She smiled ruefully at me.

"Three days? Didn't you just get back today?"

"No, we got back Sunday."

"Then why weren't any of you in school?" I was frustrated, almost angry as I thought of how much disappointment I had suffered because of her absence.

"Well, you asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn't. But I can't go out in the sunlight - at least, not where anyone can see."

"Why?"

"I'll show you sometime," she promised.

I thought about it for a moment.

"You might have called me," I decided.

She was puzzled. "But I knew you were safe."

"But I didn't know where you were. I -" I hesitated, dropping my eyes.

"What?" Her velvety voice was as hypnotic as her eyes.

"I didn't like it. Not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too." I blushed to be saying this out loud.

She was quiet. I glanced up, apprehensive, and saw that her expression was pained.

"Ah," she groaned quietly. "This is wrong."

I couldn't understand her response. "What did I say?"

"Don't you see, Bella? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved." She turned her anguished eyes to the road, her words flowing almost too fast for me to understand. "I don't want to hear that you feel that way." Her voice was low but urgent. Her words cut me. "It's wrong. It's not safe. I’ll hurt you, Bella. You’ll be lucky to get out alive.”

"I don’t care." I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child.

"I'm serious," she growled.

"So am I. I told you, it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late."

Her voice whipped out, low and harsh. "Never say that."

I bit my lip and was glad she couldn't know how much that hurt. I stared out at the road. We must be close now. She was driving much too fast.

The darkness slipped by us in silence.

"Tell me something," she asked after another minute, and I could hear her struggle to use a lighter tone.

"Yes?"

"What were you thinking tonight, just before I came around the corner? I couldn't understand your expression - you didn't look that scared, you looked like you were concentrating very hard on something."

"I was trying to remember how to incapacitate an attacker - you know, self-defense. I was going to smash his nose into his brain." I thought of the dark-haired man with a surge of hate.

"You were going to fight them?" This upset Edythe. "Didn't you think about running?"

"I fall down a lot when I run," I admitted.

"What about screaming for help?"

"I was getting to that part."

She shook his head. "You were right - I'm definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive."

I sighed. We were slowing, passing into the boundaries of Forks. It had taken less than twenty minutes.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I demanded.

“Do you want to?” she whispered.

I couldn’t look at her. “More than anything else I’ve ever wanted.”

She closed her eyes. The car didn’t deviate so much as half an inch from the center of the lane. "Then yes - I have a paper due, too." Then she opened her eyes and smiled, dimples faint but there. "I'll save you a seat at lunch."

It was silly, after everything we'd been through tonight, how that little promise sent flutters through my stomach, and made me unable to speak.

We were in front of Charlie's house. The lights were on, my truck in its place, everything utterly normal. It was like waking from a dream. Edythe stopped the car, but I didn't move.

"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?"

"I promise."

I considered that for a moment, then nodded. I pulled her jacket off, taking one last whiff.

"You can keep it - you don't have a jacket for tomorrow," she reminded me.

I handed it back to her, regretfully. "I don't want to have to explain to Charlie."

"Oh, right." She grinned.

I hesitated, my hand on the door handle, trying to prolong the moment.

"Bella?" she asked in a different tone - serious, but hesitant.

"Yes?" I turned back to her too eagerly.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Yes," I said, and instantly regretted my unconditional agreement. What if she asked me to stay away from her? I couldn't keep that promise.

"Don't go into the woods alone again."

I stared at her in blank confusion. "Why?"

She frowned, and her eyes were tight as she stared past me out the window.

"I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there. Let's leave it at that."

I shuddered slightly at the sudden bleakness in her voice, but I was relieved. This, at least, was an easy promise to honor. "Whatever you say."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she sighed, and I knew she wanted me to leave now.

"Tomorrow, then." I opened the door unwillingly.

"Bella?" I turned and she was leaning toward me, her pale goddess face just inches from mine. My heart stopped beating.

"Sleep well," she said. Her breath blew in my face, stunning me. It was the same exquisite scent that clung to her jacket, but in a more concentrated form. I blinked, thoroughly dazed. She leaned away.

I was unable to move until my brain had somewhat unscrambled itself. Then I stepped out of the car awkwardly, having to use the frame for support. I thought I heard Edythe laugh, but the sound was too quiet for me to be certain.

She waited till I had stumbled to the front door, and then I heard her engine quietly rev. I turned to watch the silver car disappear around the corner. I realized it was very cold.

I reached for the key mechanically, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Charlie called from the living room. "Bella?"

"Yeah, Dad, it's me." I walked in to see him. He was watching a baseball game.

"You're home early."

"Am I?" I was surprised.

"It's not even eight yet," he told me. "Did you girls have fun?"

"Yeah - it was lots of fun." My head was spinning as I tried to remember all the way back to the girls' night out I had planned. "They both found dresses."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm just tired. I did a lot of walking."

"Well, maybe you should go lie down." He sounded concerned. I wondered what my face looked like.

"I'm just going to call Jessica first."

"Weren't you just with her?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes - but I left my jacket in her car. I want to make sure she brings it tomorrow."

"Well, give her a chance to get home first."

"Right," I agreed.

I went to the kitchen and fell, exhausted, into a chair. I was really feeling dizzy now. I wondered if I was going to go into shock after all. Get a grip, I told myself.

The phone rang suddenly, startling me. I yanked it off the hook.

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.

"Bella?"

"Hey, Jess, I was just going to call you."

"You made it home?" Her voice was relieved... and surprised.

"Yes. I left my jacket in your car - could you bring it to me tomorrow?"

"Sure. But tell me what happened!" she demanded.

"Um, tomorrow - in Trig, okay?"

She caught on quickly. "Oh, is your dad there?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Bye!" I could hear the impatience in her voice.

"Bye, Jess."

I walked up the stairs slowly, a heavy stupor clouding my mind. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying any attention to what I was doing. It wasn't until I was in the shower - the water too hot, burning my skin - that I realized I was freezing. I shuddered violently for several minutes before the steaming spray could finally relax my rigid muscles. Then I stood in the shower, too tired to move, until the hot water began to run out.

I stumbled out, wrapping myself securely in a towel, trying to hold the heat from the water in so the aching shivers wouldn't return. I dressed for bed swiftly and climbed under my quilt, curling into a ball, hugging myself to keep warm. A few small shudders trembled through me.

My mind still swirled dizzily, full of images I couldn't understand, and some I fought to repress. Nothing seemed clear at first, but as I fell gradually closer to unconsciousness, a few certainties became evident.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edythe was a vampire. Second, there was part of her - and I didn't know how potent that part might be - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.


	11. Interrogations

It was very hard, in the morning, to argue with the part of me that was sure last night was a dream. Logic wasn't on my side, or common sense. I clung to the parts I couldn't have imagined - like her smell. I was sure I could never have dreamed that up on my own.

It was foggy and dark outside my window, absolutely perfect. Edythe had no reason not to be in school today. I dressed in my heavy clothes, remembering I didn't have a jacket. Further proof that my memory was real.

When I got downstairs, Charlie was gone again - I was running later than I'd realized. I swallowed a granola bar in three bites, chased it down with milk straight from the carton, and then hurried out the door. Hopefully the rain would hold off until I could find Jessica.

It was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist was ice cold where it clung to the exposed skin on my face and neck. I couldn't wait to get the heat going in my truck. It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized there was a car in it: a silver car. My heart thudded, stuttered, and then picked up again in double time.

I didn't see where she came from, but suddenly she was there, pulling the door open for me.

"Would you like to ride with me today?" she asked in her silky voice, amused by my expression as she caught me by surprise yet again. Despite the smile, there was uncertainty in her voice. She was really giving me a choice - I was free to refuse, and part of her hoped for that. It was a vain hope.

"Yes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. As I stepped into the warm car, I noticed her leather jacket was slung over the headrest of the passenger seat. The door closed behind me, and, sooner than should be possible, she was sitting next to me, starting the car.

"I brought the jacket for you. I didn't want you to get sick or something." Edythe’s voice was guarded. I noticed that she wore no jacket herself, just a light gray knit V-neck shirt with long sleeves. It looked very soft, and I had to reach for the jacket behind me to keep myself from reaching over and touching the sweater--touching her.

"I'm not quite that delicate," I said, but I pulled the jacket on and pushed my arms through the sleeves, curious to see if the scent could possibly be as good as I remembered. It was better.

"Aren't you?" she contradicted in a voice so low I wasn't sure if she meant for me to hear.

We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, always too fast, feeling awkward. I was, at least. Last night all the walls were down... almost all.

I didn't know if we were still being as candid today. It left me tongue-tied. I waited for her to speak.

Her voice broke the silence. "What, no twenty questions today?"

"Do my questions bother you?" I asked, relieved.

"Not as much as your reactions do." She looked like she was joking, but I couldn't be sure.

I frowned. "Do I react badly?"

"No, that's the problem. You take everything so coolly - it's unnatural. It makes me wonder what you're really thinking."

"I always tell you what I'm really thinking."

"You edit," she accused.

"Not very much."

"Enough to drive me insane."

"You don't want to hear it," I mumbled, almost whispered. As soon as the words were out, I regretted them. The pain in my voice was very faint; I could only hope she hadn't noticed it.

She didn't respond, and I wondered if I had ruined the mood. Her face was unreadable as we drove into the school parking lot. Something occurred to me belatedly.

"Where's the rest of your family?" I asked - more than glad to be alone with her, but remembering that her car was usually full.

"They took Rosalie's car." Edythe shrugged as she parked next to a glossy red convertible with the top up. "Ostentatious, isn't it?"

"Um, wow," I breathed. "If she has that, why does she ride with you?"

"Like I said, it's ostentatious. We try to blend in."

"You don't succeed." I laughed and shook my head as we got out of the car. I wasn't late anymore; her lunatic driving had gotten me to school in plenty of time. "So why did Rosalie drive today if it's more conspicuous?"

"Hadn't you noticed? I'm breaking all the rules now." Her voice contained molten gold, as warm but as hard as her eyes. She met me at the front of the car, staying very close to my side as we walked onto campus. I wanted to close that little distance, to reach out and touch her, but I was afraid she wouldn't like me to.

"Why do you have cars like that at all?" I wondered aloud. "If you're looking for privacy?"

"An indulgence," she admitted with an impish smile. "We all like to drive fast."

"Figures," I muttered under my breath.

Under the shelter of the cafeteria roof's overhang, Jessica was waiting, her eyes about to bug out of their sockets. Over her arm, bless her, was my jacket.

"Hey, Jessica," I said when we were a few feet away. "Thanks for remembering." She handed me my jacket without speaking. It was only then that I remembered that I still had Edythe’s jacket on, and I blushed furiously.

"Good morning, Jessica," Edythe said politely. I could tell she was trying to be nice, but perhaps out of practice. I shrugged off her jacket and handed to her before pulling on my own.

"Er... hi." Jessica shifted her wide eyes to me, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. "I guess I'll see you in Trig." She gave me a meaningful look, and I suppressed a sigh. What on earth was I going to tell her?

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

She walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us.

"What are you going to tell her?" Edythe murmured.

"Hey, I thought you couldn't read my mind!" I hissed.

"I can't," she said, startled. Then understanding brightened her eyes. "However, I can read hers - she'll be waiting to ambush you in class."

I groaned.

"So what are you going to tell her?"

"A little help?" I pleaded. "What does she want to know?"

Edythe shook her head, grinning wickedly. "That's not fair."

"No, you not sharing what you know - now that's not fair."

She deliberated for a moment as we walked. We stopped outside the door to my first class.

"She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me," she finally said.

"Yikes. What should I say?" I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I was barely aware of them.

"Hmmm." She paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyperactively. "That's a good question. I can’t  _ wait _ to hear what you say.”

“ _ Edythe _ ,” I said in a strangled voice.

She grinned and turned away. "I'll see you at lunch," she called over her shoulder, dimples flashing. Three people walking in the door stopped to stare at me.

I hurried into class, flushed and irritated. That was so unfair. Now I was even more worried about what I was going to say to Jessica. I sat in my usual seat, slamming my bag down in aggravation.

"Morning, Bella," Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to see an odd, almost resigned look on his face. "How was Port Angeles?"

"It was..." There was no honest way to sum it up. "Good," I finished lamely. "Jessica got a really cute dress."

"Did she say anything about Monday night?" he asked, his eyes brightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken.

"She said she had a really good time," I assured him.

"She did?" he said eagerly.

"Most definitely."

Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn in our papers. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I worried about how to explain things to Jessica and agonized over whether Edythe would really be listening to what I said through the medium of Jess's thoughts. How very inconvenient her little talent could be - when it wasn't saving my life.

The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low, oppressing clouds. I smiled up at the sky.

Edythe was right, of course. When I walked into Trig Jessica was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I reluctantly went to sit by her, trying to convince myself it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Tell me everything!" she commanded before I was in the seat.

"What do you want to know?" I hedged.

"What happened last night?"

"She bought me dinner, and then she drove me home."

She glared at me, her expression stiff with skepticism. "How did you get home so fast?"

"She drives like a maniac. It was terrifying." I hoped she heard that.

"Was it like a date - did you tell her to meet you there?"

I hadn't thought of that. "No - I was very surprised to see her there."

Jessica’s lips puckered in disappointment at the transparent honesty in my voice.

"But she picked you up for school today?" she probed.

"Yes - that was a surprise, too. She noticed I didn't have a jacket last night," I explained.

"So are you going out again?"

"She offered to drive me to Seattle on Saturday because she thinks my truck isn't up to it - does that count?"

"Yes." Jess nodded.

"Well, then, yes."

"W-o-w." She exaggerated the word into three syllables. "Edythe Cullen."

"I know," I agreed.  _ Wow _ didn't even cover it.

"Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic. "Has she kissed you?"

"No," I mumbled. "It's not like that."

She looked disappointed. I'm sure I did, too.

"Do you think Saturday... ?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I really doubt it." The discontent in my voice was poorly disguised.

"What did you talk about?" She pushed for more information in a whisper. Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and we weren't the only ones still talking.

"I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "We talked about the English essay a little." A very, very little. I think Edythe mentioned it in passing.

"Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details."

"Well... okay, I've got one. You should have seen the host  _ and _ the waitress flirting with her - it was over the top. But she didn't pay any attention to them at all." Let her make what he could of that.

"That's a good sign," she nodded. "She must like you."

"I think so, but it's hard to tell. She's always so cryptic," I threw in for Edythe’s benefit, sighing.

"I don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with her," she breathed.

"Why?" I was shocked, but Jess didn't understand my reaction.

"She's so... intimidating. I wouldn't know what to say to her." She made a face.

"I do have some trouble with incoherency when I'm around her," I admitted.

"So you like her, then?" Jess giggled.

"Yes," I said curtly.

"I mean, do you really like her?" she urged.

"Yes," I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn't register in her thoughts.

She'd had enough with the single syllable answers. "How much do you like her?"

"Too much," I whispered back. "More than she likes me. But I don't see how I can help that." I sighed, one blush blending into the next.

Then, thankfully, Mr. Varner called on Jessica for an answer.

She didn't get a chance to start on the subject again during class, and as soon as the bell rang, I took evasive action.

"In English, Mike asked me if you said anything about Monday night," I told her.

"You're kidding! What did you say?!" she gasped, completely sidetracked.

"I told him you said you had a lot of fun - he looked pleased."

"Tell me exactly what he said, and your exact answer!"

We spent the rest of the walk dissecting sentence structures and most of Spanish on a minute description of Mike's facial expressions. I wouldn't have helped draw it out for as long as I did if I wasn't worried about the subject returning to me.

And then the bell rang for lunch. As I jumped up out of my seat, shoving my books roughly in my bag, my uplifted expression must have tipped Jessica off.

"You're not sitting with us today, are you?" she guessed.

"I don't think so." I couldn't be sure that Edythe wouldn't disappear inconveniently again.

But outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall - looking more like Artemis, goddess of the moon and the hunt, than anyone had any right to - Edythe was waiting for me. Jessica took one look, rolled her eyes, and departed.

"See you later, Bella." Jess’s voice was thick with implications. I might have to turn off the ringer on the phone.

"Hello." Edythe was amused and irritated at the same time. She had been listening, it was obvious.

"Hi."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, and she didn't speak - biding her time, I presumed - so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walking with Edythe through the crowded lunchtime rush was a lot like my first day here; everyone stared.

Once we were in the cafeteria, I followed her to the food line. I couldn’t help staring at the back corner of the cafeteria the way I did every day. Her family was all present and accounted for, paying attention to only one another. They either didn’t notice Edythe was with me, or didn’t care. I couldn’t help but wonder what they thought about me. 

I wondered what I thought about them.

Just then, Alex looked up and smiled across the room at me. Automatically, I smiled back, then glanced over to see if they’d actually meant the smile for Edythe. She was aware of Alex, but she wasn’t responding in kind. She looked sort of angry. I glanced back and forth between the two of them as they had some kind of silent conversation. First, Alex smiled wider, showing off teeth so white they were bright even across the length of the room. Edythe raised her eyebrows as a sort of challenge, her upper lip curling back just a tiny bit. Alex rolled their eyes to the ceiling and held their hands up like they were saying,  _ I surrender _ . Edythe turned her back to them and move forward in line. She grabbed a tray and started loading it up.

“Is Alex...are they...your favorite sibling?” I asked hesitantly.

“It’s not nice to have favorites,” Edythe said primly, then glanced back at me and seemed to relent. “I’m pretty close with all of my family, but Alex and I do have the most in common,” she said, answering my question in a low voice. “Some days they’re really annoying, though.”

I glanced back at Alex; they were laughing now. Though they weren’t looking at us, I thought Alex might be laughing at Edythe.

I was paying so much attention to this little exchange that I didn’t notice what she had on the tray till the lunch lady was ringing us up. 

“That’ll be twenty-four thirty-three,” she said.

“What?” I looked down at the tray, piled high with food.

Edythe was already paying, and then gliding off toward the table where we’d sat together last week. 

“Edythe, I can’t eat all that,” I complained.

"Half is for me, of course."

I raised one eyebrow.

She sat down at the table. From the other end of the long table, a group of seniors gazed at us in amazement as we sat across from each other. Edythe seemed oblivious.

"Take whatever you want," she said, pushing the tray toward me.

"I'm curious," I said as I picked up an apple, turning it around in my hands, "what would you do if someone dared you to eat food?"

"You're always curious." She grimaced, then daintily tore the tip off a piece of pizza, popped it onto her mouth, and started chewing with a martyred expression. After a second, she swallowed and then gave me a superior look.

"If someone dared you to eat dirt, you could, couldn't you?" she asked condescendingly.

I wrinkled my nose. "I did once... on a dare," I admitted. "It wasn't so bad."

She laughed. "I suppose I'm not surprised." Something over my shoulder seemed to catch her attention.

"Jessica's analyzing everything I do - she'll break it down for you later." Edythe pushed the rest of the pizza toward me, a hint of a smile brightening her face.

I put down the apple and took a bite of the pizza, looking away, knowing she was about to start.

"Something you said to Jessica... well, it bothers me." Edythe’s voice was throaty, and she glanced up from under her lashes with troubled eyes.

"I'm not surprised you heard something you didn't like. You know what they say about eavesdroppers," I reminded her.

"I warned you I would be listening."

"And I never said you’d like everything you heard."

She scowled. “That's not really the point at the moment."

"Then what is?" We were inclined toward each other across the table now. She had her thin white hands folded under her chin; I leaned forward, my right hand cupped around my neck. I had to remind myself that we were in a crowded lunchroom, with probably many curious eyes on us. It was too easy to get wrapped up in our own private, tense little bubble.

"Do you truly believe that you care more for me than I do for you?" she murmured, leaning closer to me as she spoke, her dark golden eyes hypnotizing.

I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me.

"You're doing it again," I muttered.

Her eyes opened wide with surprise. "What?"

"Dazzling me," I admitted, trying to concentrate as I looked back at her.

"Oh." She frowned.

"It's not your fault," I sighed. "You can't help it."

"Are you going to answer the question?"

I looked down. "Yes."

"Yes, you are going to answer, or yes, you really think that?" A note of irritation crept into her voice.

"Yes, I really think that." I kept my eyes down on the table, my eyes tracing the pattern of the faux wood grains printed on the laminate. The silence dragged on. I stubbornly refused to be the first to break it this time, fighting hard against the temptation to peek at her expression.

Finally she spoke, voice velvet soft. "You're wrong."

I glanced up to see that her eyes were gentle.

"You can't know that," I disagreed in a whisper. I shook my head in doubt, though my heart throbbed at her words and I wanted so badly to believe them.

"What makes you think so?" Edythe’s liquid topaz eyes were penetrating - trying futilely, I assumed, to lift the truth straight from my mind.

I stared back, struggling to think clearly in spite of her face, to find some way to explain. As I searched for the words, I could see her getting impatient; frustrated by my silence, she started to scowl. I lifted my hand from my neck, and held up one finger.

"Let me think," I insisted. Her expression cleared, now that she was satisfied that I was planning to answer. I dropped my hand to the table, moving my left hand so that my palms were pressed together. I stared at my hands, twisting and untwisting my fingers, as I finally spoke.

"Well, aside from the obvious, sometimes..." I hesitated. "I can't be sure - I don't know how to read minds - but sometimes it seems like you're trying to say goodbye when you're saying something else." That was the best I could sum up the sensation of anguish that her words triggered in me at times.

"Perceptive," she whispered. And there was the anguish again, surfacing as she confirmed my fear. She slowly reached out and placed her hand on the table between us. Shocked, and pleased, I covered it with mine.

Edythe smiled, and then winced.

“Sorry,” I said hastily, pulling away.

“No,” she objected. “It’s not you, Bella. Here.”

As carefully as if my hand were blown from the thinnest glass, she rested her fingers on my palm. Copying her caution, I folded my hand gently around hers.

“What happened--what was wrong just now?”

“Many different reactions.” Her forehead wrinkled again. “Rosalie has a particularly strident mental voice.”

I couldn’t help it; I automatically glanced across the room, and then was very sorry I had.

Rosalie was glaring daggers at Edythe’s unprotected back, and Eleanor, across from her, was turned around to glower at Edythe, too. When I looked, Rosalie shifted her furious eyes to me.

My own eyes darted to Edythe, the hair standing up on the back of my neck, but Edythe was glaring back at Rosalie now, her upper lip pulled back off her teeth in a menacing scowl. To my surprise, Eleanor turned around at once and Rosalie dropped her threatening stare. She looked down at the table with a suddenly sulky expression.

Alex looked like they were enjoying it all hugely. Jamie never turned.

“Did I just--” I swallowed, hard. “Did I just piss off--”

“No,” Edythe said fiercely, then sighed. “But I did.”

I glanced at Rosalie again for a fraction of a second. She hadn’t moved. “Edythe, are you in trouble because of me? Because of what I know?”

Edythe shook her head and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she reassured me, a little smug. “I’m not saying that Rosalie couldn’t take me in a fair fight, but I  _ am _ saying that I never  _ have  _ fought fair and I don’t intend to start now. She knows better than to try anything with me.”

“Edythe…”

Her smile widened. “A joke, Bella. It’ll be okay.” I relaxed slightly, but tensed again as her face narrowed. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘the obvious’?”

It took me a moment to remember what I had been saying before her family distracted us. 

"Well, look at me," I said, unnecessarily, as she was already staring. "I'm absolutely ordinary - well, except for bad things like all the near-death experiences and being so clumsy that I'm almost disabled. And look at you." I waved my hand toward her and all divine perfection.

Her brow furrowed for a moment, then smoothed as her eyes took on a knowing look. "You don't see yourself very clearly, you know. I'll admit you're dead-on about the bad things," she laughed blackly, "but you didn't hear what half the humans in this school were thinking on your first day."

I blinked, astonished. "I don't believe it..." I mumbled to myself.

"Trust me just this once - you are the opposite of ordinary."

I must have flushed brilliantly at the look that came into her topaz eyes when she said this. To distract her, I quickly reminded her of my original argument.

"But  _ I'm _ not saying goodbye," I pointed out.

"Don't you see? That's what proves me right. I care the most, because if I can do it" - she shook her head, seeming to struggle with the thought - "if leaving is the right thing to do, then I'll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe."

I glared. "And you don't think I would do the same?"

"You'd never have to make the choice."

Abruptly, her unpredictable mood shifted again; a mischievous, devastating smile rearranged her features, dimples in full show. "Of course, keeping you safe is beginning to feel like a full-time occupation that requires my constant presence."

"No one has tried to do away with me today," I reminded her, grateful for the lighter subject. I didn't want her to talk about goodbyes anymore. If I had to, I supposed I could purposefully put myself in danger to keep her close... I banished that thought before her quick eyes read it on my face. That idea would definitely get me in trouble.

"Yet," she added.

"Yet," I agreed; I would have argued, but now I wanted her to be expecting disasters.

"I have another question for you." Her face was still casual.

"Shoot."

"Do you really need to go to Seattle this Saturday, or was that just an excuse to get out of saying no to all your admirers?"

I made a face at the memory. "You know, I haven't forgiven you for the Tyler thing yet," I warned Edythe. "It's your fault that he's deluded himself into thinking I'm going to prom with him."

"Oh, he would have found a chance to ask you without me - I just really wanted to watch your face," she laughed. I would have been angrier if her laughter wasn't so bell-like. "If I'd asked you, would you have turned me down?" she asked, still laughing to herself.

"Probably not," I admitted. "But I would have canceled later - faked an illness or a sprained ankle."

Edythe was puzzled. "Why would you do that?"

I shook my head sadly. "You've never seen me in Gym, I guess, but I would have thought you would understand."

"Are you referring to the fact that you can't walk across a flat, stable surface without finding something to trip over?" She smirked.

"Obviously."

"That wouldn't be a problem." She was very confident. "It's all in the leading." She could see that I was about to protest, and cut me off. "But you never told me - are you resolved on going to Seattle, or do you mind if we do something different?"

As long as the "we" part was in, I didn't care about anything else.

"I'm open to alternatives," I allowed. "But I do have a favor to ask."

She looked wary, as she always did when I asked an open-ended question. "What?"

"Can I drive?"

Edythe frowned. "Why?"

"Well, mostly because when I told Charlie I was going to Seattle, he specifically asked if I was going alone and, at the time, I was. If he asked again, I probably wouldn't lie, but I don't think he will ask again, and leaving my truck at home would just bring up the subject unnecessarily. And also, because your driving frightens me."

She rolled his eyes. "Of all the things about me that could frighten you, you worry about my driving." She shook her head in disgust, but then her eyes were serious again. "Won't you want to tell your father that you're spending the day with me?" There was an undercurrent to her question that I didn't understand.

"With Charlie, less is always more." I was definite about that. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Alex says the weather will be nice, so I'll be staying out of the public eye... and you can stay with me, if you'd like to." Again, she was leaving the choice up to me.

"And you'll show me what you meant, about the sun?" I asked, excited by the idea of unraveling another of the unknowns.

"Yes." She smiled, and then paused. "But if you don't want to be... alone with me, I'd still rather you didn't go to Seattle by yourself. I shudder to think of the trouble you could find in a city that size."

I was miffed. "Phoenix is three times bigger than Seattle - just in population. In physical size -"

"But apparently," she interrupted me, "your number wasn't up in Phoenix. So I'd rather you stayed near me." Her eyes did that unfair hypnotism thing again.

I couldn't argue, with the eyes or the motivation, and it was a moot point anyway. "As it happens, I don't mind being alone with you."

"I know," she sighed, brooding. "You should tell Charlie, though."

"Why in the world would I do that?"

Her eyes were suddenly fierce. "To give me some small incentive to bring you back."

I gulped. But, after a moment of thought, I was sure. "I think I'll take my chances."

She exhaled angrily, and looked away.

"Let's talk about something else," I suggested.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked. She was still annoyed.

I glanced around us, making sure we were well out of anyone's hearing. As I cast my eyes around the room, I caught the eyes of her sibling, Alex, staring at me. The others were looking at Edythe. I looked away swiftly, back to Edythe, and I asked the first thing that came to mind.

"Why did you go to that Goat Rocks place last weekend... to hunt? Charlie said it wasn't a good place to hike, because of bears."

She stared at me as if I was missing something very obvious.

"Bears?" I gasped, and she smirked. "You know, bears are not in season," I added sternly, to hide my shock.

"If you read carefully, the laws only cover hunting with weapons," she informed me.

She watched my face with enjoyment as that slowly sank in.

"Bears?" I repeated with difficulty.

"Grizzly is Eleanor’s favorite." Her voice was still offhand, but her eyes were scrutinizing my reaction. I tried to pull myself together.

"Hmmm," I said, taking another bite of pizza as an excuse to look down. I chewed slowly, and then took a long drink of Coke without looking up.

"So," I said after a moment, finally meeting his now-anxious gaze. "What's your favorite?"

She raised an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth turned down in disapproval. "Mountain lion."

"Ah," I said in a politely disinterested tone, looking for my soda again.

"Of course," she said, and her tone mirrored mine, "we have to be careful not to impact the environment with injudicious hunting. We try to focus on areas with an overpopulation of predators - ranging as far away as we need. There's always plenty of deer and elk here, and they'll do, but where's the fun in that?" She smiled teasingly.

"Where indeed," I murmured around another bite of pizza.

"Early spring is Eleanor’s favorite bear season - they're just coming out of hibernation, so they're more irritable." Edythe smiled at some remembered joke.

"Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly bear," I agreed, nodding.

She laughed, shaking her head. "Tell me what you're really thinking, please."

"I'm trying to picture it - but I can't," I admitted. "How do you hunt a bear without weapons?"

"Oh, we have weapons." She flashed her bright teeth in a brief, threatening smile. I fought back a shiver before it could expose me. "Just not the kind they consider when writing hunting laws. If you've ever seen a bear attack on television, you should be able to visualize Eleanor hunting."

I couldn't stop the next shiver that flashed down my spine. I peeked across the cafeteria toward Eleanor, grateful that she wasn't looking my way. The long, smooth bands of muscle that ran down her arms and legs were suddenly much more intimidating. I pictured her gripping under the edge of a mountain, then lifting...

Edythe followed my gaze and chuckled. I stared at her, unnerved.

"Are you like a bear, too?" I asked in a low voice.

"More like the lion, or so they tell me," she said lightly. "Perhaps our preferences are indicative."

I tried to smile. "Perhaps," I repeated. But my mind was filled with opposing images that I couldn't merge together. "Is that something I might get to see?"

"Absolutely not!" Her face turned even whiter than usual, and her eyes were suddenly furious. I leaned back, stunned and - though I'd never admit it to her - frightened by her reaction. She leaned back as well, folding her arms across her chest. 

My hand lay empty on the table, numb from the cold.

"Too scary for me?" I asked when I could control my voice again.

"If that were it, I would take you out tonight," she said, her voice cutting. "You need a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial for you."

"Then why?" I pressed, trying to ignore her angry expression.

She glared at me for a long minute.

"Later," she finally said. She was on her feet in one lithe movement. "We're going to be late."

I glanced around, startled to see that she was right and the cafeteria was nearly vacant. When I was with her, the time and the place were such a muddled blur that I completely lost track of both. I jumped up, grabbing my bag from the back of my chair.

"Later, then," I agreed. I wouldn't forget.


	12. Complications

Everyone watched us as we walked together to our lab table. I noticed that she no longer angled the chair to sit as far from me as the desk would allow. Instead, she sat quite close beside me, our arms almost touching.

Mr. Banner backed into the room then - what superb timing the man had - pulling a tall metal frame on wheels that held a heavy-looking, outdated TV and VCR. A movie day - the lift in the class atmosphere was almost tangible.

Mr. Banner shoved the tape into the reluctant VCR and walked to the wall to turn off the lights.

And then, as the room went black, I was suddenly hyperaware that Edythe was sitting less than an inch from me. I was stunned by the unexpected electricity that flowed through me, amazed that it was possible to be more aware of her than I already was. Where her hair brushed my shoulder was almost painful. A crazy impulse to reach over and touch her, to stroke her perfect face just once in the darkness, nearly overwhelmed me. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest, my hands balling into fists. I was losing my mind.

The opening credits began, lighting the room by a token amount. My eyes, of their own accord, flickered to Edythe. I smiled sheepishly as I realized her posture was identical to mine, fists clenched under her arms, right down to the eyes, peering sideways at me. She grinned back, his eyes somehow managing to burn, even in the dark. I looked away before I could start hyperventilating. It was absolutely ridiculous that I should feel dizzy.

The hour seemed very long. I couldn't concentrate on the movie - I didn't even know what subject it was on. I tried unsuccessfully to relax, but the electric current that seemed to be originating from somewhere in her body never slackened. Occasionally I would permit myself a quick glance in her direction, but she never seemed to relax, either. The overpowering craving to touch her also refused to fade, and I crushed my fists safely against my ribs until my fingers were aching with the effort.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Banner flicked the lights back on at the end of class, and stretched my arms out in front of me, flexing my stiff fingers. Edythe laughed low beside me.

"Well, that was interesting," she murmured. Her voice was dark and her eyes were cautious.

"Umm," was all I was able to respond.

"Shall we?" she asked, rising fluidly.

I almost groaned. Time for Gym. I stood with care, worried my balance might have been affected by the strange new intensity between us.

She walked me to my next class in silence and paused at the door; I turned to say goodbye. Her face startled me - her expression was torn, almost pained, and so fiercely beautiful that the ache to touch her flared as strong as before. My goodbye stuck in my throat.

Edythe raised her hand, hesitant, conflict raging in her eyes, and then swiftly brushed the length of my cheekbone with her fingertips. Her skin was as icy as ever, but the trail her fingers left on my skin was alarmingly warm - like I'd been burned, but didn't feel the pain of it yet.

She turned without a word and strode quickly away from me.

I walked into the gym, lightheaded and wobbly. I drifted to the locker room, changing in a trancelike state, only vaguely aware that there were other people surrounding me. Reality didn't fully set in until I was handed a racket. It wasn't heavy, yet it felt very unsafe in my hand. I could see a few of the other kids in class eyeing me furtively. Coach Clapp ordered us to pair up into teams.

Mercifully, some vestiges of Mike's chivalry still survived; he came to stand beside me.

"Do you want to be a team?"

"Thanks, Mike - you don't have to do this, you know." I grimaced apologetically.

"Don't worry, I'll keep out of your way." He grinned. Sometimes it was so easy to like Mike.

It didn't go smoothly. I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with my racket and clip Mike's shoulder on the same swing. I spent the rest of the hour in the back corner of the court, the racket held safely behind my back. Despite being handicapped by me, Mike was pretty good; he won three games out of four singlehandedly. He gave me an unearned high five when the coach finally blew the whistle ending class.

"So," he said as we walked off the court.

"So what?"

"You and Edythe Cullen, huh?" he asked, his tone rebellious. My previous feeling of affection disappeared.

"That's none of your business, Mike," I warned, internally cursing Jessica straight to the fiery pits of Hades.

"I don't like it," he muttered anyway.

"You don't have to," I snapped.

"She looks at you like... like you're something to eat," he continued, ignoring me.

I choked back the hysteria that threatened to explode, but a small giggle managed to get out despite my efforts. He glowered at me. I waved and fled to the locker room.

I dressed quickly, something stronger than butterflies battering recklessly against the walls of my stomach, my argument with Mike already a distant memory. I was wondering if Edythe would be waiting, or if I should meet her at her car. What if her family was there? I felt a wave of real terror. Did they know that I knew? Was I supposed to know that they knew that I knew, or not?

By the time I walked out of the gym, I had just about decided to walk straight home without even looking toward the parking lot. But my worries were unnecessary. Edythe was waiting, leaning casually against the side of the gym, her breathtaking face untroubled now. As I walked to her side, I felt a peculiar sense of release.

"Hi," I breathed, smiling hugely.

"Hello." Her answering smile was brilliant. "How was Gym?"

My face fell a tiny bit. "Fine," I lied.

"Really?" She was unconvinced. Her eyes shifted their focus slightly, looking over my shoulder and narrowing. I glanced behind me to see Mike's back as he walked away.

"What?" I demanded.

Her eyes slid back to mine, still tight. "Newton's getting on my nerves."

"You weren't listening again?" I was horror-struck. All traces of my sudden good humor vanished.

"How's your head?" she asked innocently.

"You're unbelievable!" I turned, stomping away in the general direction of the parking lot, though I hadn't ruled out walking at this point.

She kept up with me easily.

"You were the one who mentioned how I'd never seen you in Gym - it made me curious." She didn't sound repentant, so I ignored her.

We walked in silence - an annoyed silence on my part - to her car. But I had to stop a few steps away - a crowd of people, all boys, were surrounding it.

Then I realized they weren't surrounding the Volvo, they were actually circled around Rosalie's red convertible, unmistakable lust in their eyes. None of them even looked up as Edythe slid between them to open her door. I climbed quickly in the passenger side, also unnoticed.

"Ostentatious," she muttered.

"What kind of car is that?" I asked.

"An M3."

"I don't speak Car and Driver."

"It's a BMW." She rolled her eyes, not looking at me, trying to back out without running over the car enthusiasts.

I nodded - I'd heard of that one.

"Are you still angry?" she asked as she carefully maneuvered her way out.

"Definitely."

SHe sighed. "Will you forgive me if I apologize?"

"Maybe... if you mean it. And if you promise not to do it again," I insisted.

Her eyes were suddenly shrewd. "How about if I mean it, and I agree to let you drive Saturday?" she countered my conditions.

I considered, and decided it was probably the best offer I would get. "Deal," I agreed.

"Then I'm very sorry I upset you." Her eyes burned with sincerity for a protracted moment - playing havoc with the rhythm of my heart - and then turned playful. "And I'll be on your doorstep bright and early Saturday morning."

"Um, it doesn't help with the Charlie situation if an unexplained Volvo is left in the driveway."

Her smile was enigmatic now. "I wasn't intending to bring a car."

"How -"

She cut me off. "Don't worry about it. I'll be there, no car."

I let it go. I had a more pressing question.

"Is it later yet?" I asked significantly.

She frowned. "I supposed it is later."

I kept my expression polite as I waited.

She stopped the car. I looked up, surprised - of course we were already at Charlie's house, parked behind the truck. It was easier to ride with her if I only looked when it was over. When I looked back at him, she was staring at me, measuring with her eyes.

"And you still want to know why you can't see me hunt?" She seemed solemn, but I thought I saw a trace of humor deep in her eyes.

"Well," I clarified, "I was mostly wondering about your reaction."

"Did I frighten you?" Yes, there was definitely humor there.

"No," I lied. She didn't buy it.

"I apologize for scaring you," she persisted with a slight smile, but then all evidence of teasing disappeared. "It was just the very thought of you being there... while we hunted." Her jaw tightened.

"That would be bad?"

She spoke from between clenched teeth. "Extremely."

I had to know. "Because... ?"

He took a deep breath and stared through the windshield at the thick, rolling clouds that seemed to press down, almost within reach.

"When we hunt," she spoke slowly, unwillingly, "we give ourselves over to our senses... govern less with our minds. Especially our sense of smell. If you were anywhere near me when I lost control that way..." She shook his head, still gazing morosely at the heavy clouds.

I kept my expression firmly under control, expecting the swift flash of her eyes to judge my reaction that soon followed. My face gave nothing away.

But our eyes held, and the silence deepened - and changed. Flickers of the electricity I'd felt this afternoon began to charge the atmosphere as she gazed unrelentingly into my eyes. It wasn't until my head started to swim that I realized I wasn't breathing. When I drew in a jagged breath, breaking the stillness, she closed his eyes.

"Bella, I think you should go inside now." Her low voice was rough, her eyes on the clouds again.

I opened the door, and the arctic draft that burst into the car helped clear my head. Afraid I might stumble in my woozy state, I stepped carefully out of the car and shut the door behind me without looking back. The whir of the automatic window unrolling made me turn.

"Oh, Bella?" she called after me, her voice more even. She leaned toward the open window with a small smile on her lips.

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow it's my turn."

"Your turn to what?"

She smiled wider, flashing her gleaming teeth and weaponized dimples. "Ask the questions."

And then she was gone, the car speeding down the street and disappearing around the corner before I could even collect my thoughts. I smiled as I walked to the house. It was clear she was planning to see me tomorrow, if nothing else.

That night Edythe starred in my dreams, as usual. However, the climate of my unconsciousness had changed. It thrilled with the same electricity that had charged the afternoon, and I tossed and turned restlessly, waking often. It was only in the early hours of the morning that I finally sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

When I woke I was still tired, but edgy as well. I pulled on my brown turtleneck and the inescapable jeans, sighing as I daydreamed of spaghetti straps and shorts. Breakfast was the usual, quiet event I expected. Charlie fried eggs for himself; I had my bowl of cereal. I wondered if he had forgotten about this Saturday. He answered my unspoken question as he stood up to take his plate to the sink.

"About this Saturday..." he began, walking across the kitchen and turning on the faucet.

I cringed. "Yes, Dad?"

"Are you still set on going to Seattle?" he asked.

"That was the plan." I grimaced, wishing he hadn't brought it up so I wouldn't have to compose careful half-truths.

He squeezed some dish soap onto his plate and swirled it around with the brush. "And you're sure you can't make it back in time for the dance?"

"I'm not going to the dance, Dad." I glared.

"Didn't anyone ask you?" he asked, trying to hide his concern by focusing on rinsing the plate.

I sidestepped the minefield. "It's a girl's choice." 

"Oh." He frowned as he dried his plate, clearly deciding to drop the issue.

I sympathized with him. It must be a hard thing, to be a father; living in fear that your daughter would meet a someone she liked, but also having to worry if she didn't. How ghastly it would be, I thought, shuddering, if Charlie had even the slightest inkling of exactly what I did like.

Charlie left then, with a goodbye wave, and I went upstairs to brush my teeth and gather my books. When I heard the cruiser pull away, I could only wait a few seconds before I had to peek out of my window. The silver car was already there, waiting in Charlie's spot on the driveway. I bounded down the stairs and out the front door, wondering how long this bizarre routine would continue. I never wanted it to end.

She waited in the car, not appearing to watch as I shut the door behind me without bothering to lock the dead-bolt. I walked to the car, pausing shyly before opening the door and stepping in. She was smiling, relaxed - and, as usual, perfect and beautiful to an excruciating degree.

"Good morning." Her voice was silky. "How are you today?" Her eyes roamed over my face, as if her question was something more than simple courtesy.

"Good, thank you." I was always good - much more than good - when I was near her.

Her gaze lingered on the circles under my eyes. "You look tired."

"I couldn't sleep," I confessed, automatically swinging my hair around my shoulder to provide some measure of cover.

"Neither could I," she teased as she started the engine. I was becoming used to the quiet purr. I was sure the roar of my truck would scare me, whenever I got to drive it again.

I laughed. "I guess that's right. I suppose I slept just a little bit more than you did."

"I'd wager you did."

"So what did you do last night?" I asked.

Edythe laughed. "Not a chance. It's my day to ask questions."

"Oh, that's right. What do you want to know?" My forehead creased. I couldn't imagine anything about me that could be in any way interesting to her.

"What's your favorite color?" she asked, her face grave.

I rolled my eyes. "It changes from day to day."

"What's your favorite color today?" She was still solemn.

"Probably brown." I tended to dress according to my mood.

She snorted, dropping her serious expression. "Brown?" she asked skeptically.

"Sure. Brown is warm. I miss brown. Everything that's supposed to be brown - tree trunks, rocks, dirt - is all covered up with squashy green stuff here," I complained.

She seemed fascinated by my little rant. She considered for a moment, staring into my eyes.

"You're right," she decided, serious again. "Brown is warm." She reached over, swiftly, but somehow still hesitantly, to sweep my hair back behind my shoulder.

We were at the school by now. She turned back to me as she pulled into a parking space.

"What music is in your CD player right now?" she asked, her face as somber as if she'd asked for a murder confession.

I realized I'd never removed the CD Phil had given me. When I said the name of the band, Edythe smiled wryly, a peculiar expression in her eyes. She flipped open a compartment under her car's CD player, pulled out one of thirty or so CDs that were jammed into the small space, and handed it to me.

"Debussy to this?" She raised an eyebrow.

It was the same CD. I examined the familiar cover art, keeping my eyes down.

It continued like that for the rest of the day. While she walked me to English, when she met me after Spanish, all through the lunch hour, Edythe questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence. Movies I'd liked and hated, the few places I'd been and the many places I wanted to go, and books - endlessly books.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so much. More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain I must be boring her. But the absolute absorption of her face, and her never-ending stream of questions, compelled me to continue. Mostly her questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes. But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions.

Such as the time she asked my favorite gemstone, and I blurted out topaz before thinking. She'd been flinging questions at me with such speed that I felt like I was taking one of those psychiatric tests where you answer with the first word that comes to mind. I was sure she would have continued down whatever mental list she was following, except for the blush. My face reddened because, until very recently, my favorite gemstone was garnet. It was impossible, while staring back into her topaz eyes, not to remember the reason for the switch. And, naturally, she wouldn't rest until I'd admitted why I was embarrassed.

"Tell me," she finally commanded after persuasion failed - failed only because I kept my eyes safely away from hers.

"It's the color of your eyes today," I sighed, surrendering, staring down at my hands as I fiddled with a piece of my hair. "I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I'd say onyx." I'd given more information than necessary in my unwilling honesty, and I worried it would provoke the strange anger that flared whenever I slipped and revealed too clearly how obsessed I was.

But her pause was very short.

"What kinds of flowers do you prefer?" she fired off.

I sighed in relief, and continued with the psychoanalysis.

Biology was a complication again. Edythe had continued with her quizzing up until Mr. Banner entered the room, dragging the audiovisual frame again. As the teacher approached the light switch, I noticed Edythe slide her chair slightly farther away from mine. It didn't help. As soon as the room was dark, there was the same electric spark, the same restless craving to stretch my hand across the short space and touch her cold skin, as yesterday.

I leaned forward on the table, resting my chin on my folded arms, my hidden fingers gripping the table's edge as I fought to ignore the irrational longing that unsettled me. I didn't look at her, afraid that if she was looking at me, it would only make self-control that much harder. I sincerely tried to watch the movie, but at the end of the hour I had no idea what I'd just seen. I sighed in relief again when Mr. Banner turned the lights on, finally glancing at Edythe; she was looking at me, her topaz eyes ambivalent.

She rose in silence and then stood still, waiting for me. We walked toward the gym in silence, like yesterday. And, also like yesterday, she touched my face wordlessly - this time with the back of her cool hand, stroking once from my temple to my jaw - before she turned and walked away.

Gym passed quickly as I watched Mike's one-man badminton show. He didn't speak to me today, either in response to my vacant expression or because he was still angry about our squabble yesterday. Somewhere, in a corner of my mind, I felt bad about that. But I couldn't concentrate on him.

I hurried to change afterward, ill at ease, knowing the faster I moved, the sooner I would be with Edythe. The pressure made me more clumsy than usual, but eventually I made it out the door, feeling the same release when I saw her standing there, a wide smile automatically spreading across my face. She smiled in reaction before launching into more cross-examination.

Her questions were different now, though, not as easily answered. She wanted to know what I missed about home, insisting on descriptions of anything she wasn't familiar with. We sat in front of Charlie's house for hours, as the sky darkened and rain plummeted around us in a sudden deluge.

I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote - bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant - the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizon, barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me - to justify a beauty that didn't depend on the sparse, spiny vegetation that often looked half dead, a beauty that had more to do with the exposed shape of the land, with the shallow bowls of valleys between the craggy hills, and the way they held on to the sun. I found myself using my hands as I tried to describe it to her.

Her quiet, probing questions kept me talking freely, forgetting, in the dim light of the storm, to be embarrassed for monopolizing the conversation. Finally, when I had finished detailing my cluttered room at home, she paused instead of responding with another question.

"Are you finished?" I asked in relief.

"Not even close - but your father will be home soon."

"Charlie!" I suddenly recalled his existence, and sighed. I looked out at the rain-darkened sky, but it gave nothing away. "How late is it?" I wondered out loud as I glanced at the clock. I was surprised by the time - Charlie would be driving home now.

"It's twilight," Edythe murmured, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. Her voice was thoughtful, as if her mind were somewhere far away. I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield.

I was still staring when her eyes suddenly shifted back to mine.

"It's the safest time of day for us," he said, answering the unspoken question in my eyes. "The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way... the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don't you think?" He smiled wistfully.

"I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars." I frowned. "Not that you see them here much."

She laughed, and the mood abruptly lightened.

"Charlie will be here in a few minutes. So, unless you want to tell him that you'll be with me Saturday..." She raised one eyebrow.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I gathered my books, realizing I was stiff from sitting still so long. "So is it my turn tomorrow, then?"

"Certainly not!" She pretended to be outraged. "I told you I wasn't done, didn't I?"

"What more is there?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

Reluctantly, I went to open the car door, but stopped when I sense Edythe freeze beside me.

"Not good," she muttered.

"What is it?" I was surprised to see that her jaw was clenched, her eyes disturbed.

She glanced at me for a brief second. "Another complication," she said glumly.

The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us.

"Charlie's around the corner," Edythe warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle.

I opened the door and hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it lashed my face and my jacket.

I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it was too dark. I could see Edythe illuminated in the glare of the new car's headlights; she was still staring ahead, her gaze locked on something or someone I couldn't see. Her expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance.

Then she revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.

"Hey, Bella," called a familiar, throaty voice from the driver's side of the little black car.

"Julie?" I asked, squinting through the rain. Just then, Charlie's cruiser swung around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of the car in front of me.

Julie was already climbing out, her wide grin visible even through the darkness. In the passenger seat was a much older man, an imposing woman with an unusual face - it was stern and stoic, with creases running through the russet skin like an old leather jacket. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the broad face they were set in. Julie's mother, Bonnie Black. I knew her immediately, though in the more than five years since I'd seen her last I'd managed to forget her name when Charlie had spoken of her my first day here. Bonnie was staring at me, scrutinizing my face, so I smiled tentatively at her. Her eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, her nostrils flared. My smile faded.

Another complication, Edythe had said.

Bonnie still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned internally. Had Bonnie recognized Edythe so easily? Could she really believe the impossible legends her daughter had scoffed at?

The answer was clear in Bonnie's eyes. Yes. Yes, she could.


	13. Balancing

"Bonnie!" Charlie called as soon as he got out of the car.

I turned toward the house, beckoning to Julie as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting them loudly behind me.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see you behind the wheel, Julie," he said disapprovingly.

"We get permits early on the rez," Julie said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light.

"Sure you do," Charlie laughed.

"I have to get around somehow." I recognized Bonnie's resonant voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child.

I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on lights before I hung up my jacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Julie helped Bonnie out of the car and into her wheelchair.

I backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain.

"This is a surprise," Charlie was saying.

"It's been too long," Bonnie answered. "I hope it's not a bad time." Her dark eyes flashed up to me again, their expression unreadable.

"No, it's great. I hope you can stay for the game."

Julie grinned. "I think that's the plan - our TV broke last week."

Bonnie made a face at her daughter. "And, of course, Julie was anxious to see Bella again," she added. Julie returned the scowl.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, turning toward the kitchen. I was eager to escape Bonnie's searching gaze.

"Naw, we ate just before we came," Julie answered.

"How about you, Charlie?" I called over my shoulder as I fled around the corner.

"Sure," he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I could hear Bonnie's chair follow.

The grilled cheese sandwiches were in the frying pan and I was slicing up a tomato when I sensed someone behind me.

"So, how are things?" Julie asked.

"Pretty good." I smiled. Her enthusiasm was hard to resist. "How about you? Did you finish your car?"

"No." He frowned. "I still need parts. We borrowed that one." She pointed with her thumb in the direction of the front yard.

"Sorry. I haven't seen any... what was it you were looking for?"

"Master cylinder." She grinned. "Is something wrong with the truck?" she added suddenly.

"No."

"Oh. I just wondered because you weren't driving it."

I stared down at the pan, pulling up the edge of a sandwich to check the bottom side. "I got a ride with a friend."

"Nice ride." Julie's voice was admiring. "I didn't recognize the driver, though. I thought I knew most of the kids around here."

I nodded noncommittally, keeping my eyes down as I flipped sandwiches.

"My mom seemed to know her from somewhere."

"Jules, could you hand me some plates? They're in the cupboard over the sink."

"Sure."

She got the plates in silence. I hoped she would let it drop now.

"So who was it?" he asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me.

I sighed in defeat. "Edythe Cullen."

To my surprise, she laughed. I glanced up at her. She looked a little embarrassed.

"Guess that explains it, then," Julie said. "I wondered why my mom was acting so strange."

"That's right." I faked an innocent expression. "She doesn't like the Cullens."

"Superstitious old bat," Julie muttered under her breath.

"You don't think he'd say anything to Charlie?" I couldn't help asking, the words coming out in a low rush.

Julie stared at me for a moment, and I couldn't read the expression in her dark eyes. "I doubt it," he finally answered. "I think Charlie chewed her out pretty good last time. They haven't spoken much since - tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don't think she'd bring it up again."

"Oh," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

I stayed in the front room after I carried the food out to Charlie, pretending to watch the game while Julie chattered at me. I was really listening to the adult's conversation, watching for any sign that Bonnie was about to rat me out, trying to think of ways to stop her if she began.

It was a long night. I had a lot of homework that was going undone, but I was afraid to leave Bonnie alone with Charlie. Finally, the game ended.

"Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?" Julie asked as she pushed her mother over the lip of the threshold.

"I'm not sure," I hedged.

"That was fun, Charlie," Bonnie said.

"Come up for the next game," Charlie encouraged.

"Sure, sure," Bonnie said. "We'll be here. Have a good night." Her eyes shifted to mine, and her smile disappeared. "You take care, Bella," he added seriously.

"Thanks," I muttered, looking away.

I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway.

"Wait, Bella," he said.

I cringed. Had Bonnie gotten something in before I'd joined them in the living room?

But Charlie was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?"

"Good." I hesitated with one foot on the first stair, searching for details I could safely share. "My badminton team won all four games."

"Wow, I didn't know you could play badminton."

"Well, actually I can't, but my partner is really good," I admitted.

"Who is it?" he asked with token interest.

"Um... Mike Newton," I told him reluctantly.

"Oh yeah - you said you were friends with the Newton kid." He perked up. "Nice family." He mused for a minute. "Why didn't you ask him to the dance this weekend?"

"Dad!" I groaned. "He's kind of dating my friend Jessica. Besides, you know I can't dance."

"Oh yeah," he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically. "So I guess it's good you'll be gone Saturday... I've made plans to go fishing with the guys from the station. The weather's supposed to be real warm. But if you wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you, I'd stay home. I know I leave you here alone too much."

"Dad, you're doing a great job." I smiled, hoping my relief didn't show. "I've never minded being alone - I'm too much like you." I winked at him, and he smiled his crinkly-eyed smile.

I slept better that night, too tired to dream again. When I woke to the pearl gray morning, my mood was blissful. The tense evening with Bonnie and Julie seemed harmless enough now; I decided to forget it completely. I caught myself whistling while I was pulling the front part of my hair back into a barrette, and later again as I skipped down the stairs. Charlie noticed.

"You're cheerful this morning," he commented over breakfast.

I shrugged. "It's Friday."

I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Charlie left. I had my bag ready, shoes on, teeth brushed, but even though I rushed to the door as soon as I was sure Charlie would be out of sight, Edythe was faster. She was waiting in her shiny car, windows down, engine off.

I didn't hesitate this time, climbing in the passenger side quickly, the sooner to see her face. She smiled her glorious smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn't imagine how an angel could be any more beautiful. There was nothing about her that could be improved upon.

"How did you sleep?" she asked. I wondered if she had any idea how appealing her voice was.

"Fine. How was your night?"

"Pleasant." Her smile was amused; I felt like I was missing an inside joke.

"Can I ask what you did?" I asked.

"No." She grinned. "Today is still mine."

She wanted to know about people today: more about Renée, her hobbies, what we'd done in our free time together. And then the one grandmother I'd known, my few school friends - embarrassing me when she asked about people I'd dated. I was relieved that I'd never really dated anyone, so that particular conversation couldn't last long. She seemed as surprised as Jessica and Angela by my lack of romantic history.

"So you never met anyone you wanted?" she asked in a serious tone that made me wonder what she was thinking about.

I was grudgingly honest. "Not in Phoenix."

Her lips pressed together into a hard line.

We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the blur that was rapidly becoming routine. I took advantage of his brief pause to take a bite of my bagel.

"I should have let you drive yourself today," she announced, apropos of nothing, while I chewed.

"Why?" I demanded.

"I'm leaving with Alex after lunch."

"Oh." I blinked, bewildered and disappointed. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."

She frowned at me impatiently. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."

"I don't have my key with me," I sighed. "I really don't mind walking." What I minded was losing my time with her.

Edythe shook her head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition - unless you're afraid someone might steal it." She laughed at the thought.

"All right," I agreed, pursing my lips. I was pretty sure my key was in the pocket of a pair of jeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in the laundry room. Even if she broke into my house, or whatever she was planning, she'd never find it. She seemed to feel the challenge in my consent. She smirked, overconfident.

"So where are you going?" I asked as casually as I could manage.

"Hunting," she answered grimly. "If I'm going to be alone with you tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." Her face grew sad... and pleading. "You can always cancel, you know."

I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of her eyes. I refused to be convinced to fear her, no matter how real the danger might be. It doesn't matter, I repeated in my head.

"No," I whispered, glancing back at her face. "I can't."

"Perhaps you're right," she murmured bleakly. Her eyes seemed to darken in color as I watched.

I changed the subject. "What time will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, already depressed by the thought of her leaving now.

"That depends... it's a Saturday, don't you want to sleep in?" she offered.

"No," I answered too fast. She restrained a smile.

"The same time as usual, then," she decided. "Will Charlie be there?"

"No, he's fishing tomorrow." I beamed at the memory of how conveniently things had worked out.

His voice turned sharp. "And if you don't come home, what will he think?"

"I have no idea," I answered coolly. "He knows I've been meaning to do the laundry. Maybe he'll think I fell in the washer."

Edythe scowled at me and I scowled back. Her anger was much more impressive than mine.

"What are you hunting tonight?" I asked when I was sure I had lost the glowering contest.

"Whatever we find in the park. We aren't going far." She seemed bemused by my casual reference to his secret realities.

"Why are you going with Alex?" I wondered.

"Alex is the most... supportive." She frowned as she spoke.

"And the others?" I asked timidly. "What are they?"

Her brow puckered for a brief moment. "Incredulous, for the most part."

I peeked quickly behind me at her family. They sat staring off in different directions, exactly the same as the first time I'd seen them. Only now they were four; their beautiful, bronze-haired sister sat across from me, her golden eyes troubled.

"They don't like me," I guessed.

"That's not it," she disagreed, but her eyes were too innocent. "They don't understand why I can't leave you alone."

I grimaced. "Neither do I, for that matter."

Edythe shook his head slowly, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling before she met my gaze again. "I told you - you don't see yourself clearly at all. You're not like anyone I've ever known. You fascinate me."

I glared at her, sure she was teasing now.

She smiled as she deciphered my expression. "Having the advantages I do," she murmured, touching her forehead discreetly, "I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise."

I looked away, my eyes wandering back to her family, embarrassed and a little dissatisfied. Her words made me feel like a science experiment. I wanted to laugh at myself for expecting anything else.

"That part is easy enough to explain," she continued. I felt her eyes on my face but I couldn't look at her yet, afraid she might read the chagrin in my eyes. "But there's more... and it's not so easy to put into words -"

I was still staring at the Cullens while he spoke. Suddenly Rosalie, his blond and breathtaking sister, turned to look at me. No, not to look - to glare, with dark, cold eyes. I wanted to look away, but her gaze held me until Edythe broke off mid-sentence and made an angry noise under her breath. It was almost a hiss.

Rosalie turned her head, and I was relieved to be free. I looked back at Edythe - and I knew she could see the confusion and fear that widened my eyes.

Her face was tight as she explained. "I'm sorry about that. Rosalie's just worried. You see... it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly..." She looked down.

"If?"

"If this ends... badly." She dropped her head into her hands, as she had that night in Port Angeles. Her anguish was plain; I yearned to comfort her, but I was at a loss to know how. My hand reached toward her involuntarily; quickly, though, I dropped it to the table, fearing that my touch would only make things worse. I realized slowly that her words should frighten me. I waited for that fear to come, but all I could seem to feel was an ache for her pain.

And frustration - frustration that Rosalie had interrupted whatever Edythe was about to say. I didn't know how to bring it up again. She still had her head in her hands.

I tried to speak in a normal voice. "And you have to leave now?"

"Yes." She raised her face; it was serious for a moment, and then her mood shifted and she smiled. "It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology - I don't think I could take any more."

I started. Alex - their short, inky hair in a halo of spiky disarray around their elfin face - was suddenly standing behind Edythe’s shoulder. Alex’s slight frame was lithe and graceful even in absolute stillness.

Edythe greeted them without looking away from me. "Alex."

"Edythe," Alex answered, imitating her voice with a mocking twist. Their voice was soft and almost as velvety as Edythe’s.

"Alex, Bella - Bella, Alex," she introduced us, gesturing casually with her hand, a wry smile on her face.

"Hello, Bella." Alex’s brilliant obsidian eyes were unreadable, but their smile was friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you." There was the slightest stress on the world ‘finally’.

Edythe flashed a dark look at her.

"Hi, Alex," I murmured shyly.

"Are you ready?" Alex asked Edythe.

Her voice was aloof. "Nearly. I'll meet you at the car."

Alex left without another word; their walk was so fluid, so sinuous that I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. I’d love not to be so clumsy I could hardly walk.

"Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" I asked, turning back to Edythe.

"No, 'have fun' works as well as anything." She grinned.

"Have fun, then." I worked to sound wholehearted. Of course I didn't fool her.

"I'll try." She still grinned. "And you try to be safe, please."

"Safe in Forks - what a challenge."

"For you it is a challenge." Her jaw hardened. "Promise."

"I promise to try to be safe," I recited. "I'll do the laundry tonight - that ought to be fraught with peril."

"Don't fall in," she mocked, grinning again.

"I'll do my best."

She stood then, and I rose, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sighed.

"It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?" she mused.

I nodded glumly.

"I'll be there in the morning," she promised, smiling her dimpled smile. She reached across the table to touch my face, lightly brushing along my cheekbone again. Then she turned and walked away. I stared after her until she was gone.

I was sorely tempted to ditch the rest of the day, at the very least Gym, but a warning instinct stopped me. I knew that if I disappeared now, Mike and others would assume I was with Edythe. And Edythe was worried about the time we'd spent together publicly... if things went wrong. I refused to dwell on the last thought, concentrating instead on making things safer for him.

I intuitively knew - and sensed she did, too - that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn't continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon her decision, or her instincts. My decision was made, made before I'd ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from her. It was an impossibility.

I went to class, feeling dutiful. I couldn't honestly say what happened in Biology; my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of tomorrow. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I'd canceled my trip, worried about my truck.

"Are you going to the dance with Edythe?" he asked, suddenly sulky.

"No, I'm not going to the dance at all."

"What are you doing, then?" he asked, too interested.

My natural urge was to tell him to butt out. Instead, I lied brightly.

"Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I'm going to fail."

"Is Edythe helping you study?"

"No,” I said firmly. “I’m on my own for this one. She’s gone away somewhere for the weekend." The lies came more naturally than usual, I noted with surprise.

"Oh." He perked up. "You know, you could come to the dance with our group anyway - that would be cool. We'd all dance with you," he promised.

The mental image of Jessica's face made my tone sharper than necessary.

"I'm not going to the dance, Mike, okay?"

"Fine." He sulked again. "I was just offering."

When the school day had finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I did not especially want to walk home, but I couldn't see how she would have retrieved my truck. Then again, I was starting to believe that nothing was impossible for her. The latter instinct proved correct - my truck sat in the same space she'd parked her Volvo in this morning. I shook my head, incredulous, as I opened the unlocked door and saw the key in the ignition.

There was a piece of white paper folded on my seat. I got in and closed the door before I unfolded it. Two words were written in her elegant script.

_ Be safe. _

The sound of the truck roaring to life frightened me. I laughed at myself.

When I got home, the handle of the door was locked, the deadbolt unlocked, just as I'd left it this morning. Inside, I went straight to the laundry room. It looked just the same as I'd left it, too. I dug for my jeans and, after finding them, checked the pockets. Empty. Maybe I'd hung my key up after all, I thought, shaking my head.

Following the same instinct that had prompted me to lie to Mike, I called Jessica on the pretense of wishing her luck at the dance. When she offered the same wish for my day with Edythe, I told her about the cancellation. She was more disappointed than really necessary for a third-party observer to be. I said goodbye quickly after that.

Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball game, or maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna - it was hard to tell with Charlie.

"You know, Dad..." I began, breaking into his reverie.

"What's that, Bell?"

"I think you're right about Seattle. I think I'll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me."

"Oh," he said, surprised. "Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?"

"No, Dad, don't change your plans. I've got a million things to do... homework, laundry... I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I'll be in and out all day... you go and have fun."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish - we're down to a two, maybe three years' supply."

"You're sure easy to live with, Bella." He smiled.

"I could say the same thing about you," I said, laughing. The sound of my laughter was off, but he didn't seem to notice. I felt so guilty for deceiving him that I almost took Edythe's advice and told him where I would be. Almost.

After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. My mind definitely had too much free time, and it was getting out of control. I fluctuated between anticipation so intense that it was very nearly pain, and an insidious fear that picked at my resolve. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going back on it. I pulled her note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words she'd written. She wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice - to cut her out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about her.

But a tiny voice in the back of my mind worried, wondering if it would hurt very much... if it ended badly.

I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I did something I'd never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary cold medicine - the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn't condone that type of behavior in myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation on top of everything else. While I waited for the drugs to kick in, I dried my clean hair till it was impeccably straight, and fussed over what I would wear tomorrow. With everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn't stop twitching. I got up and rifled through my shoebox of CDs until I found a collection of Chopin's nocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing individual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold pills took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness.

I woke early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my gratuitous drug use. Though I was well rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush, smoothing my collar against my neck, fidgeting with the tan sweater till it hung right over my jeans. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn't look very lasting.

I ate breakfast without tasting the food, hurrying to clean up when I was done. I peeked out the window again, but nothing had changed. I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage.

I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple deadbolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there she was. All the agitation dissolved as soon as I looked at her face, calm taking its place. I breathed a sigh of relief - yesterday's fears seemed very foolish with her here.

She wasn't smiling at first - her face was somber. But then her expression lightened as he looked me over, and she laughed.

"Good morning," she chuckled.

"What's wrong?" I glanced down to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything important, like shoes, or pants.

"We match." She laughed again. I realized she had a long, light tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath, and blue jeans. I laughed with her, hiding a secret twinge of regret - why did she have to look like a runway model when I couldn't?

I locked the door behind me while she walked to the truck. She waited by the passenger door with a martyred expression that was easy to understand.

"We made a deal," I reminded her smugly, unlocking her door first before walking around to the driver’s side. She had unlocked it for me from the inside, so I climbed in with a smile for her.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Put your seatbelt on - I'm nervous already."

I gave her a dirty look as I complied.

"Where to?" I repeated with a sigh.

"Take the one-oh-one north," she ordered.

It was surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while feeling her gaze on my face. I compensated by driving more carefully than usual through the still-sleeping town.

"Were you planning to make it out of Forks before nightfall?"

"This truck is old enough to be your car's grandfather - have some respect," I retorted.

We were soon out of the town limits, despite her sarcasm. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses.

"Turn right on the one-ten," she instructed just as I was about to ask. I obeyed silently.

"Now we drive until the pavement ends."

I could hear a smile in her voice, but I was too afraid of driving off the road and proving her right to look over and be sure.

"And what's there, at the pavement's end?" I wondered.

"A trail."

"We're hiking?" Thank goodness I'd worn tennis shoes.

"Is that a problem?" She sounded as if she'd expected as much.

"No." I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if she thought my truck was slow...

"Don't worry, it's only five miles or so, and we're in no hurry."

Five miles. I didn't answer, so that she wouldn't hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be humiliating.

We drove in silence for a while as I contemplated the coming horror.

"What are you thinking?" she asked impatiently after a few moments.

I lied again. "Just wondering where we're going."

"It's a place I like to go when the weather is nice." We both glanced out the windows at the thinning clouds after he spoke.

"Charlie said it would be warm today."

"And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?"s he asked.

"Nope."

"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" She seemed cheered by the idea.

"No, I told her you canceled on me - which is true."

"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now.

"That depends... I assume you told Alex?"

"That's very helpful, Bella," she snapped.

I pretended I didn't hear that.

"Are you so depressed by Forks that it's made you suicidal?" she demanded when I ignored him.

"You said it might cause trouble for you... us being together publicly," I reminded him.

"So you're worried about the trouble it might cause me- if you don't come home?" Her voice was a mix of ice and acid.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road.

She muttered something under her breath, speaking so quickly that I couldn't understand.

We were silent for the rest of the drive. I could feel the waves of infuriated disapproval rolling off of her, and I could think of nothing to say.

And then the road ended, constricting to a thin foot trail with a small wooden marker. I parked on the narrow shoulder and stepped out, afraid because she was angry with me and I didn't have driving as an excuse not to look at her. It was warm now, warmer than it had been in Forks since the day I'd arrived, almost muggy under the clouds. I pulled off my sweater and knotted it around my waist, glad that I'd worn the light, sleeveless shirt - especially if I had five miles of hiking ahead of me.

I heard her door slam, and looked over to see that she'd removed her sweater, too. She was facing away from me, into the unbroken forest beside my truck.

"This way," she said, glancing over her shoulder at me, eyes still annoyed. She started into the dark forest.

"The trail?" Panic was clear in my voice as I hurried around the truck to catch up to him.

"I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it."

"No trail?" I asked desperately.

"I won't let you get lost." She turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a gasp. Her white collared shirt was sleeveless and several buttons were undone, and I’d never seen this much of her skin. Her pale arms, toned arms with their golden downy hairs, her slim shoulders, her graceful collarbones and the vulnerable hollows above them, her swanlike neck, the swell of her breasts and the hint of cleavage revealed for the first time. She was too perfect, I realized with a crushing wave of despair. There was no way this goddess could ever belong to me. She wasn’t the lesbian Artemis I’d always believed in but the other one, the asexual, aromantic Artemis who stopped for no one.

Edythe stared at me, bewildered by my tortured expression.

"Do you want to go home?" she said quietly, a different pain than mine saturating her voice.

"No." I walked forward till I was close beside him, anxious not to waste one second of whatever time I might have with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, her voice gentle.

"I'm not a good hiker," I answered dully. "You'll have to be very patient."

"I can be patient - if I make a great effort." She smiled, holding my glance, trying to lift me out of my sudden, unexplained dejection.

I tried to smile back, but the smile was unconvincing. She scrutinized my face.

"I'll take you home," she promised. I couldn't tell if the promise was unconditional, or restricted to an immediate departure. I knew she thought it was fear that upset me, and I was grateful again that I was the one person whose mind hse couldn't hear.

"If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you'd better start leading the way," I said acidly. She frowned at me, struggling to understand my tone and expression.

She gave up after a moment and led the way into the forest.

It wasn't as hard as I had feared. The way was mostly flat, and she held the damp ferns and webs of moss aside for me. When her straight path took us over fallen trees or boulders, he would help me, lifting me by the elbow, and then releasing me instantly when I was clear. Her cold touch on my skin never failed to make my heart thud erratically. Twice, when that happened, I caught a look on her face that made me sure she could somehow hear it.

I tried to keep my eyes away from her perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time, her beauty pierced me through with sadness.

For the most part, we walked in silence. Occasionally she would ask a random question that she hadn't gotten to in the past two days of interrogation. She asked about my birthdays, my grade school teachers, my childhood pets - and I had to admit that after killing three fish in a row, I'd given up on the whole institution. She laughed at that, louder than I was used to - bell-like echoes bouncing back to us from the empty woods.

The hike took me most of the morning, but she never showed any sign of impatience. The forest spread out around us in a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I began to be nervous that we would never find our way out again. She was perfectly at ease, comfortable in the green maze, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.

After several hours, the light that filtered through the canopy transformed, the murky olive tone shifting to a brighter jade. The day had turned sunny, just as she'd foretold. For the first time since we'd entered the woods, I felt a thrill of excitement - which quickly turned to impatience.

"Are we there yet?" I teased, pretending to scowl.

"Nearly." She smiled at the change in my mood. "Do you see the brightness ahead?"

I peered into the thick forest. "Um, should I?"

She smirked. "Maybe it's a bit soon for your eyes."

"Time to visit the optometrist," I muttered. Her smirk grew more pronounced.

But then, after another hundred yards, I could definitely see a lightening in the trees ahead, a glow that was yellow instead of green. I picked up the pace, my eagerness growing with every step. She let me lead now, following noiselessly.

I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers - violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, wanting to share this with Edythe, but she wasn't behind me where I thought she'd be. I spun around, searching for her with sudden alarm. Finally I spotted her, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what the beauty of the meadow had driven from my mind - the enigma of Edythe and the sun, which she'd promised to illustrate for me today.

I took a step back toward her, my eyes alight with curiosity. Her eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled encouragingly and beckoned to her with my hand, taking another step back to her. She held up a hand in warning, and I hesitated, rocking back onto my heels.

Edythe seemed to take a deep breath, and then she stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun.


	14. Confessions

I nearly screamed; I was sure that Edythe had caught on fire. It took me a shattered breath or two to realize that she wasn’t on fire--she was  _ sparkling _ . The light blazed off her skin, danced in prism-like rainbows across her face and neck, down her arms. She was so bright that I had to squint, like I was trying to stare at the sun.

It took me a while to see past her iridescence to the expression on her face. She was watching me with wide eyes--it almost looked like she was afraid of something. I took a step toward her, and she cringed just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered. “Does it hurt you?”

“No,” she whispered back.

I took another step toward her--she was a magnet again, and I was helplessly drawn toward her. Her warning hand dropped slowly to her side. As she moved. the fire shimmered down her arm. Slowly, I walked around her, keeping my distance, just needing to absorb this, to see her from every angle. The sun played off her skin, refracting and magnifying every color that light could hold. My eyes were adjusting, and I opened them wide with wonder.

I finished my circle, and closed the few feet between us. “Edythe,” I breathed.

“Are you scared now?” she whispered.

“No.”

She stared searchingly into my eyes, trying to  hear what I was thinking.

I reached toward her, deliberately slowly, watching her face for permission. Her eyes opened ever wider and she froze. Then, carefully, she turned her head a fraction of an inch toward my hand.

Equally carefully, I let my fingertips graze the glistening skin of her face, then down her arm. I was surprised to find it just as cold as ever. While my fingers touched her, the reflections of the fire flickered against my skin,, and suddenly my hand wasn’t so mediocre anymore. She was so extraordinary that she could make even me less ordinary.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, voice still low.

I struggled to find words, to speak past the unnameable emotion welling in my throat. “I am…. I don’t….” I took a deep breath, and the words finally came. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful--never imagined anything so beautiful could exist.”

Her eyes were still wary, like she thought I was saying what I thought she wanted to hear. But it was the truest thing I had ever said in my life. I was too overwhelmed to filter or pretend.

“Aren’t you repulsed by my flagrant lack of humanity?”

I shook my head. “No. Never.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You should be.”

She pulled her arm from under my fingertips and walked to the middle of the meadow, making a little arc when she passed me, keeping a solid three feet between us. She sat down with her back to me, the sunlight incandescent across her shoulder blades, reminding me of wings. I walked slowly closer, and then sat down facing her when I was about five feet away. 

“Is this all right?”

Edythe nodded, but she didn’t look sure. “Just let me...concentrate?”

I sat, silent, and after a few seconds, she shut her eyes again, and laid down on her back. I was fine with that. Seeing her like this--it wasn’t something you could get tired of. I watched her, happy to just gaze, and she ignored me.

I enjoyed the sun, too, though the air wasn't quite dry enough for my taste. I would have liked to lie back, as she did, and let the sun warm my face. But I stayed curled up, my chin resting on my knees, unwilling to take my eyes off her. The wind was gentle; it tangled my hair and ruffled the grass that swayed around her motionless form.

The meadow, so spectacular to me at first, paled next to her magnificence.

Now and then, her lips would move, so fast it looked like they were trembling. But, when I asked, she told me she was singing to himself; it was too low for me to hear.

Hesitantly, always afraid, even now, that she would disappear like a mirage, too beautiful to be real... hesitantly, I reached out one finger and stroked the back of her shimmering hand, where it lay within my reach. I marveled again at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone. When I looked up again, her eyes were open, watching me. Butterscotch today, lighter, warmer after hunting. Her quick smile turned up the corners of her flawless lips. 

"I don't scare you?" she asked playfully, but I could hear the real curiosity in her soft voice.

"No more than usual."

She smiled wider; her teeth flashed in the sun.

I inched closer, stretched out my whole hand now to trace the contours of her forearm with my fingertips. I saw that my fingers trembled, and knew it wouldn't escape her notice.

"Do you mind?" I asked, for she had closed her eyes again.

"No," she said without opening her eyes. "You can't imagine how that feels." She sighed.

I lightly trailed my hand over the delicate structure of her arm, followed the faint pattern of bluish veins inside the crease at her elbow. With my other hand, I reached to turn his hand over. Realizing what I wished, she flipped her palm up in one of those blindingly fast, disconcerting movements of hers. It startled me; my fingers froze on her arm for a brief second.

"Sorry," she murmured. I looked up in time to see her golden eyes close again. "It's too easy to be myself with you."

I lifted her hand, turning it this way and that as I watched the sun glitter on her palm. I held it closer to my face, trying to see the hidden facets in her skin.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she whispered. I looked to see her eyes watching me, suddenly intent. "It's still so strange for me, not knowing."

"You know, the rest of us feel that way all the time."

"It's a hard life." Did I imagine the hint of regret in her tone? "But you didn't tell me."

"I was wishing I could know what you were thinking..." I hesitated.

"And?"

"I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn't afraid."

"I don't want you to be afraid." Her voice was just a soft murmur. I heard what she couldn't truthfully say, that I didn't need to be afraid, that there was nothing to fear.

"Well, that's not exactly the fear I meant, though that's certainly something to think about."

So quickly that I missed her movement, she was half sitting, propped up on her right arm, her left palm still in my hands. Her angel's face was only a few inches from mine. I might have - should have - flinched away from her unexpected closeness, but I was unable to move. Her honey eyes mesmerized me.

"What are you afraid of, then?" she whispered intently.

But I couldn't answer. As I had just that once before, I smelled her cool breath in my face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made my mouth water. It was unlike anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling.

And she was gone, her hand ripped from mine. In the time it took my eyes to focus, she was twenty feet away, standing at the edge of the small meadow, in the deep shade of a huge fir tree. She stared at me, her eyes dark in the shadows, her expression unreadable.

I could feel the hurt and shock on my face. My empty hands stung.

"I'm... sorry... Edythe," I whispered. I knew she could hear.

"Give me a moment," she called, just loud enough for my less sensitive ears. I sat very still.

After ten incredibly long seconds, Edythe walked back, slowly for her. She stopped, still several feet away, and sank gracefully to the ground, crossing her legs. Her eyes never left mine. She took two deep breaths, and then smiled in apology.

"I am so very sorry." She hesitated. "Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?"

I nodded once, not quite able to smile at her joke. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as the realization of danger slowly sank in. She could smell that from where she sat. Her smile turned mocking.

"I'm the world's best predator, aren't I? Everything about me invites you in - my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I need any of that!" Unexpectedly, she was on her feet, bounding away, instantly out of sight, only to appear beneath the same tree as before, having circled the meadow in half a second.

"As if you could outrun me," she said bitterly.

She leaped a dozen feet straight up, grabbing a two-foot-thick branch and wrenching it away from the truck without any sign of effort. She was back in the ground in the same instant, balancing the huge, gnarled lance in one hand for just a second. Then with blinding speed she swung it--one-handed--like a bat at the tree she’d ripped it from.

With an explosive boom, both the branch and the tree shattered in half.

Before I even had time to shy away from the detonation, before the tree could even fall to the ground, she was right in front of me again, just two feet away, still as a sculpture.

"As if you could fight me off," she said gently. Behind her, the sound of the tree crashing to the earth echoed through the forest.

I sat without moving, more frightened of her than I had ever been. I'd never seen her so completely freed of that carefully cultivated facade. She'd never been less human... or more beautiful. Face ashen, eyes wide, I sat like a bird locked in the eyes of a snake.

Her lovely eyes seem to glow with rash excitement. Then, as the seconds passed, they dimmed. Her expression slowly folded into a mask of ancient sadness.

"Don't be afraid," she murmured, her velvet voice unintentionally seductive. "I promise..." She hesitated. "I swear not to hurt you." She seemed more concerned with convincing herself than me.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered again as she stepped closer, with exaggerated slowness. She sat sinuously, with deliberately unhurried movements, till our faces were on the same level, just a foot apart.

"Please forgive me," she said formally. "I can control myself. You caught me off guard. But I'm on my best behavior now."

She waited, but I still couldn't speak.

"I'm not thirsty today, honestly." She winked.

At that I had to laugh, though the sound was shaky and breathless.

"Are you all right?" she asked tenderly, reaching out slowly, carefully, to place her marble hand back in mine.

I looked at her smooth, cold hand, and then at her eyes. They were soft, repentant. I looked back at her hand, and then deliberately returned to tracing the lines in her hand with my fingertip. I looked up and smiled timidly.

Her answering smile was dazzling.

"So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?" she asked in the gentle cadences of an earlier century.

"I honestly can't remember."

She smiled, but her face was ashamed. "I think we were talking about why you were afraid, besides the obvious reason."

"Oh, right."

"Well?"

I looked down at her hand and doodled aimlessly across her smooth, iridescent palm. The seconds ticked by.

"How easily frustrated I am," she sighed. I looked into her eyes, abruptly grasping that this was every bit as new to him as it was to me. As many years of unfathomable experience as she had, this was hard for her, too. I took courage from that thought.

"I was afraid... because, for, well, obvious reasons, I can't stay with you. And I'm afraid that I'd like to stay with you, much more than I should." I looked down at her hands as I spoke. It was difficult for me to say this aloud.

"Yes," she agreed slowly. "That is something to be afraid of, indeed. Wanting to be with me. That's really not in your best interest."

I frowned.

"I should have left long ago," she sighed. "I should leave now. But I don't know if I can."

"I don't want you to leave," I mumbled pathetically, staring down again.

"Which is exactly why I should. But don't worry. I'm essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."

"I'm glad."

"Don't be!" She withdrew her hand, more gently this time, but her voice was harsher than usual. Harsh for her, still more beautiful than any human voice. It was hard to keep up - her sudden mood changes left me always a step behind, dazed.

"It's not only your  _ company _ I crave! Never forget that. Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else." She stopped, and I looked to see her gazing unseeingly into the forest.

I thought for a moment.

"I don't think I understand exactly what you mean - by that last part anyway," I said.

She looked back at me and smiled, his mood shifting yet again.

"How do I explain?" she mused. "And without frightening you again... hmmmm." Without seeming to think about it, she placed her hand back in mine; I held it tightly in both of mine. She looked at our hands.

"That's amazingly pleasant, the warmth." She sighed.

A moment passed as she assembled her thoughts.

"You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?" she began. "Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?"

I nodded.

"Sorry about the food analogy - I couldn't think of another way to explain."

I smiled. She smiled ruefully back.

"You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, they'd gladly drink it. But they could resist, if they wished to, if they were a recovering alcoholic. Now let's say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac - and filled the room with its warm aroma - how do you think they would fare then?"

We sat silently, looking into each other's eyes - trying to read each other's thoughts.

Edythe broke the silence first.

"Maybe that's not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead."

"So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin."

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

She looked across the treetops, thinking through his response.

"I spoke to my siblings about it." She still stared into the distance. "To Jamie, every one of you is much the same. They’re the most recent to join our family. It's a struggle for Jamie to abstain at all. They haven't had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor." Edythe glanced swiftly at me, her expression apologetic.

"Sorry," she said.

"I don't mind. Please don't worry about offending me, or frightening me, or whichever. That's the way you think. I can understand, or I can try to at least. Just explain however you can."

She took a deep breath and gazed at the sky again.

"So Jamie wasn't sure if they'd ever come across someone who was as" - she hesitated, looking for the right word - " _ appealing _ as you are to me. Which makes me think not. Eleanor has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and she understood what I meant. She says twice, for her, once stronger than the other."

"And for you?"

"Never."

The word hung there for a moment in the warm breeze.

"What did Eleanor do?" I asked to break the silence.

It was the wrong question to ask. Her face grew dark, her hand clenched into a fist inside mine. She looked away. I waited, but she wasn't going to answer.

"I guess I know," I finally said.

Edythe lifted his eyes; her expression was wistful, pleading.

"Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon, don't we?"

"What are you asking? My permission?" My voice was sharper than I'd intended. I tried to make my tone kinder - I could guess what her honesty must cost him. "I mean, is there no hope, then?" How calmly I could discuss my own death!

"No, no!" She was instantly contrite. "Of course there's hope! I mean, of course I won't..." She left the sentence hanging. Her eyes burned into mine. "It's different for us. Eleanor... these were strangers Eleanor happened across. It was a long time ago, and she wasn't as... practiced, as careful, as she is now."

Edythe fell silent and watched me intently as I thought it through.

"So if we'd met... oh, in a dark alley or something..." I trailed off.

"It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and -" He stopped abruptly, looking away. "When you walked past me, I could have ruined everything Carine has built for us, right then and there. If I hadn't been denying my thirst for the last, well, too many years, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself." She paused, scowling at the trees.

She glanced at me grimly, both of us remembering. "You must have thought I was possessed."

"I couldn't understand why. How you could hate me so quickly..."

"To me, it was like you were some kind of demon, summoned straight from my own personal hell to ruin me. The fragrance coming off your skin... I thought it would make me deranged that first day. In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone. And I fought them each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow..."

She looked up then at my staggered expression as I tried to absorb her bitter memories. Her golden eyes burned from under her lashes, hypnotic and deadly.

"You would have come," she promised.

I tried to speak calmly. "Without a doubt."

She frowned down at my hands, releasing me from the force of her stare. "And then, as I tried to rearrange my schedule in a pointless attempt to avoid you, you were there - in that close, warm little room, the scent was maddening. I so very nearly took you then. There was only one other frail human there - so easily dealt with."

I shivered in the warm sun, seeing my memories anew through her eyes, only now grasping the danger. Poor Ms. Cope; I shivered again at how close I'd come to being inadvertently responsible for her death.

"But I resisted. I don't know how. I forced myself not to wait for you, not to follow you from the school. It was easier outside, when I couldn't smell you anymore, to think clearly, to make the right decision. I left the others near home - I was too ashamed to tell them how weak I was, they only knew something was very wrong - and then I went straight to Carine, at the hospital, to tell her I was leaving."

I stared in surprise.

"I traded cars with her - she had a full tank of gas and I didn't want to stop. I didn't dare to go home, to face Esme. She wouldn't have let me go without a scene. She would have tried to convince me that it wasn't necessary...

"By the next morning I was in Alaska." Edythe sounded ashamed, as if admitting a great cowardice. "I spent two days there, with some old acquaintances... but I was homesick. I hated knowing I'd upset Esme, and the rest of them, my adopted family. In the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you were so irresistible. I convinced myself it was weak to run away. I'd dealt with temptation before, not of this magnitude, not even close, but I was strong. Who were you, an insignificant little girl" - she grinned suddenly - "to chase me from the place I wanted to be? So I came back..." She stared off into space.

I couldn't speak.

"I took precautions, hunting, feeding more than usual before seeing you again. I was sure that I was strong enough to treat you like any other human. I was arrogant about it.

"It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn't simply read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn't used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Jessica's mind... her mind isn't very original, and it was annoying to have to stoop to that. And then I couldn't know if you really meant what you said. It was all extremely irritating." She frowned at the memory.

"I wanted you to forget my behavior that first day, if possible, so I tried to talk with you like I would with any person. I was eager actually, hoping to decipher some of your thoughts. But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expressions... and every now and then you would stir the air with your hand or your hair, and the scent would stun me again...

"Of course, then you were nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment - because if I hadn't saved you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don't think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, 'Not her.'"

She closed his eyes, lost in her agonized confession. I listened, more eager than rational. Common sense told me I should be terrified. Instead, I was relieved to finally understand. And I was filled with compassion for her suffering, even now, as she confessed her craving to take my life.

I finally was able to speak, though my voice was faint. "In the hospital?"

Her eyes flashed up to mine. "I was appalled. I couldn't believe I had put us in danger after all, put myself in your power - you of all people. As if I needed another motive to kill you." We both flinched as that word slipped out. "But it had the opposite effect," she continued quickly. "I fought with Rosalie, Eleanor, and Jamie when they suggested that now was the time... the worst fight we've ever had. Carine sided with me, and Alex." She grimaced when she said Alex’s name. I couldn't imagine why. "Esme told me to do whatever I had to in order to stay." Edythe shook her head indulgently.

"All that next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you kept your word. I didn't understand you at all. But I knew that I couldn't become more involved with you. I did my very best to stay as far from you as possible. And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair... it hit me as hard as the very first day."

She met my eyes again, and hers were surprisingly tender.

"And for all that," she continued, "I'd have fared better if I had exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here - with no witnesses and nothing to stop me - I were to hurt you."

I was human enough to have to ask. "Why?"

"Isabella." She pronounced my full name carefully, then playfully ruffled my hair with her free hand. A shock ran through my body at her casual touch. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me." She looked down, ashamed again. "The thought of you, still, white, cold... to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses... it would be unendurable." She lifted her glorious, agonized eyes to mine. "You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever."

My head was spinning at the rapid change in direction our conversation had taken. From the cheerful topic of my impending demise, we were suddenly declaring ourselves. She waited, and even though I looked down to study our hands between us, I knew her golden eyes were on me. "You already know how I feel, of course," I finally said. "I'm here... which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you." I frowned, but I couldn’t. "I'm an idiot."

"You are an idiot," she agreed with a laugh. Our eyes met, and I laughed, too. We laughed together at the idiocy and sheer impossibility of such a moment.

"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb..." she murmured. I looked away, hiding my eyes as I thrilled to the word.

"What a stupid lamb," I sighed.

"What a sick, masochistic lion." She stared into the shadowy forest for a long moment, and I wondered where her thoughts had taken her.

"Why... ?" I began, and then paused, not sure how to continue.

She looked at me and smiled; sunlight glinted off her face, her teeth.

"Yes?"

"Tell me why you ran from me before."

Her smile faded. "You know why."

"No, I mean, exactly what did I do wrong? I'll have to be on my guard, you see, so I better start learning what I shouldn't do. This, for example" - I stroked the back of her hand, thrilled that I could do this now - "seems to be all right."

Edythe smiled again. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bella. It was my fault."

"But I want to help, if I can, to not make this harder for you."

"Well..." She contemplated for a moment. "It was just how close you were. Most humans instinctively shy away from us, are repelled by our alienness... I wasn't expecting you to come so close. And the smell of your throat." She stopped short, looking to see if she'd upset me.

"Okay, then," I said flippantly, trying to alleviate the suddenly tense atmosphere. I tucked my chin. "No throat exposure."

It worked; she laughed. "No, really, it was more the surprise than anything else."

She raised her free hand and placed it gently on the side of my neck. I sat very still, the chill of her touch a natural warning - a warning telling me to be terrified. But there was no feeling of fear in me. There were, however, other feelings...

"You see," she said. "Perfectly fine."

My blood was racing, and I wished I could slow it, sensing that this must make everything so much more difficult - the thudding of my pulse in my veins. Surely she could hear it.

"The blush on your cheeks is lovely," she murmured. She gently freed her other hand. My hands fell limply into my lap. Softly she brushed my cheek, then held my face between her marble hands.

"Be very still," she whispered, as if I wasn't already frozen.

Slowly, never moving her eyes from mine, she leaned toward me. Then abruptly, but very gently, she rested her cold cheek against the hollow at the base of my throat. I was quite unable to move, even if I'd wanted to.

I listened to the sound of her even breathing, watching the sun and wind play in her bronze hair, more human than any other part of her.

With deliberate slowness, her hands slid down the sides of my neck. I shivered, and I heard her catch her breath. But her hands didn't pause as they softly moved to my shoulders, and then stopped.

Her face drifted to the side, her nose skimming across my collarbone. She came to rest with the side of her face pressed tenderly against my chest.

Listening to my heart.

"Ah," she sighed. 

I don't know how long we sat without moving. It could have been hours. Eventually the throb of my pulse quieted, but she didn't move or speak again as she held me. I knew at any moment it could be too much, and my life could end - so quickly that I might not even notice. And I couldn't make myself be afraid. I couldn't think of anything, except that she was touching me.

And then, too soon, she released me and her eyes were peaceful.

"It won't be so hard again," she said with satisfaction.

"Was that very hard for you?"

"Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?"

"No, it wasn't bad... for me."

She smiled at my inflection. "You know what I mean."

I smiled.

"Here." She took my hand and placed it against her cheek. "Do you feel how warm it is?"

And it was almost warm, her usually icy skin. But I barely noticed, for I was touching her face, something I'd dreamed of constantly since the first day I'd seen her.

"Don't move," I whispered.

No one could be still like Edythe. She closed her eyes and became as immobile as stone, a carving under my hand.

I moved even more slowly than she had, careful not to make one unexpected move. I caressed her cheek, delicately stroked her eyelid, the purple shadow in the hollow under her eye. I traced the shape of her perfect nose, and then, so carefully, her flawless lips. Her lips parted under my hand, and I could feel her cool breath on my fingertips. I wanted to lean in, to inhale the scent of her. So I dropped my hand and leaned away, not wanting to push her too far.

She opened her eyes, and they were hungry. Not in a way to make me fear, but rather to tighten the muscles in the pit of my stomach and send my pulse hammering through my veins again. I could hardly breathe.

"I wish," she whispered, "I wish you could feel the... complexity... the confusion... I feel. That you could understand."

She raised her hand to my hair, then carefully brushed it across my face.

"Tell me," I breathed.

"I don't think I can. I've told you, on the one hand, the hunger - the thirst - that, deplorable creature that I am, I feel for you. And I think you can understand that, to an extent. Though" - she half-smiled - "as you are not addicted to any illegal substances, you probably can't empathize completely.

"But..." Her fingers touched my lips lightly, making me shiver again. "There are other hungers. Hungers I don't even understand, that are foreign to me."

"I may understand that better than you think."

"I'm not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?"

"For me?" I paused. "No, never. Never before this."

She held my hands between her. They felt so feeble in her iron strength.

"I don't know how to be close to you," she admitted. "I don't know if I can."

I leaned forward very slowly, cautioning her with my eyes. I placed my forehead against hers.

"This is enough," I sighed, closing my eyes.

We sat like this for a moment, and then her fingers moved into my hair. She angled her face up and pressed her lips into my forehead. The rhythm of my pulse exploded into a jagged sprint.

"You're better at this than you give yourself credit for," I said when I could speak again.

She leaned away, taking my hands again. "I have human instincts - they may be buried deep, but they're there."

We sat like that for another immeasurable moment; I wondered if she could be as unwilling to move as I was. But I could see the light was fading, the shadows of the forest beginning to touch us, and I sighed.

"You have to go."

"I thought you couldn't read my mind."

"It's getting clearer." She smiled

She took my shoulders and I looked into her face.

"Can I show you something?" she asked, sudden excitement flaring in her eyes.

"Show me what?"

"I'll show you how I travel in the forest." She saw my expression. "Don't worry, you'll be very safe, and we'll get to your truck much faster." Her mouth twitched up into that dimpled smile so beautiful my heart nearly stopped.

"Will you turn into a bat?" I asked warily.

She laughed, louder than I'd ever heard. "Like I haven't heard that one before!"

"Right, I'm sure you get that all the time."

"Come on, little coward, climb on my back."

I waited to see if she was kidding, but, apparently, she meant it. He smiled as she read my hesitation, and reached for me. My heart reacted; even though she couldn't hear my thoughts, my pulse always gave me away. Edythe then proceeded to sling me onto her back, with very little effort on my part, besides, when in place, clamping my legs and arms so tightly around her that it would choke a normal person. It was like clinging to a stone.

"I'm a bit heavier than your average backpack," I warned.

"Hah!" she snorted. I could almost hear her eyes rolling. I'd never seen him in such high spirits before.

She startled me, suddenly grabbing my hand, pressing my palm to her face, and inhaling deeply.

"Easier all the time," she murmured.

And then she was running.

If I'd ever feared death before in her presence, it was nothing compared to how I felt now.

She streaked through the dark, thick underbrush of the forest like a bullet, like a ghost. There was no sound, no evidence that her feet touched the earth. Her breathing never changed, never indicated any effort. But the trees flew by at deadly speeds, always missing us by inches.

I was too terrified to close my eyes, though the cool forest air whipped against my face and burned them. I felt as if I were stupidly sticking my head out the window of an airplane in flight. And, for the first time in my life, I felt the dizzy faintness of motion sickness.

Then it was over. We'd hiked hours this morning to reach Edythe's meadow, and now, in a matter of minutes, we were back to the truck.

"Exhilarating, isn't it?" Her voice was high, excited.

She stood motionless, waiting for me to climb down. I tried, but my muscles wouldn't respond. My arms and legs stayed locked around her while my head spun uncomfortably.

"Bella?" she asked, anxious now.

"I think I need to lie down," I gasped.

"Oh, sorry." She waited for me, but I still couldn't move.

"I think I need help," I admitted.

Edythe laughed quietly, and gently unloosened my stranglehold on his neck. There was no resisting the iron strength of her hands. Then she pulled me around to face her, cradling me in her arms like a small child. We were the same size; I had no idea how I fit. She held me for a moment, then carefully placed me on the springy ferns.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

I couldn't be sure how I felt when my head was spinning so crazily. "Dizzy, I think."

"Put your head between your knees."

I tried that, and it helped a little. I breathed in and out slowly, keeping my head very still. I felt her sitting beside me. The moments passed, and eventually I found that I could raise my head. There was a hollow ringing sound in my ears.

"I guess that wasn't the best idea," she mused.

I tried to be positive, but my voice was weak. "No, it was very interesting."

"Hah! You're as white as a ghost - no, you're as white as me!"

"I think I should have closed my eyes."

"Remember that next time."

"Next time!" I groaned.

She laughed, her mood still radiant.

"Show-off," I muttered.

"Open your eyes, Bella," she said quietly.

And she was right there, her face so close to mine. Her beauty stunned my mind - it was too much, an excess I couldn't grow accustomed to.

"I was thinking, while I was running..." He paused.

"About not hitting the trees, I hope."

"Silly Bella," he chuckled. "Running is second nature to me, it's not something I have to think about."

"Show-off," I muttered again.

She smiled.

"No," she continued, "I was thinking there was something I wanted to try." And she took my face in her hands again.

I couldn't breathe.

She hesitated - not in the normal way, the human way.

Edythe hesitated to test herself, to see if this was safe, to make sure she was still in control of her need.

And then her cold, marble lips pressed very softly against mine.

What neither of us was prepared for was my response.

Blood boiled under my skin, burned in my lips. My breath came in a wild gasp. My fingers knotted in her hair, clutching her to me. My lips parted as I breathed in her heady scent.

Immediately I felt her turn to unresponsive stone beneath my lips. Her hands gently, but with irresistible force, pushed my face back. I opened my eyes and saw her guarded expression.

"Oops," I breathed.

"That's an understatement."

Her eyes were wild, her jaw clenched in acute restraint, yet she didn't lapse from her perfect articulation. She held my face just inches from her. She dazzled my eyes.

"Should I... ?" I tried to disengage myself, to give her some room.

Her hands refused to let me move so much as an inch.

"No, it's tolerable. Wait for a moment, please." Her voice was polite, controlled.

I kept my eyes on her, watched as the excitement in them faded and gentled.

Then she smiled a surprisingly impish grin.

"There," she said, obviously pleased with herself.

"Tolerable?" I asked.

She laughed aloud. "I'm stronger than I thought. It's nice to know."

"I wish I could say the same. I'm sorry."

"You are only human, after all."

"Thanks so much," I said, my voice acerbic.

She freed her hair from my fingers, and then she was on her feet in one of her lithe, almost invisibly quick movements. She held out her hand to me, an unexpected gesture. I was so used to our standard of careful non-contact. I took her icy hand, needing the support more than I thought. My balance had not yet returned.

"Are you still faint from the run? Or was it my kissing expertise?" How lighthearted, how human she seemed as she laughed now, her seraphic face untroubled. She was a different Edythe than the one I had known. And I felt all the more besotted by her. It would cause me physical pain to be separated from her now.

"I can't be sure, I'm still woozy," I managed to respond. "I think it's some of both, though."

"Maybe you should let me drive."

"Are you insane?" I protested.

"I can drive better than you on your best day," she teased. "You have much slower reflexes."

"I'm sure that's true, but I don't think my nerves, or my truck, could take it."

"Some trust, please, Bella."

My hand was in my pocket, curled tightly around the key. I pursed my lips, deliberated, then shook my head with a tight grin.

"Nope. Not a chance."

She raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

I started to step around him, heading for the driver's side. She might have let me pass if I hadn't wobbled slightly. Then again, she might not have. Her arm created an inescapable snare around my waist.

"Bella, I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I'm not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can't even walk straight. Besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk," she quoted with a laugh.

"Drunk?" I objected.

She put her cheek next to mine. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance of her breath. "You're intoxicated by my very presence."

"I can't argue with that," I sighed. There was no way around it; I couldn't resist her in anything. I held the key high and dropped it, watching her hand flash like lightning to catch it soundlessly. "Take it easy - my truck is a senior citizen."

"Very sensible," she approved.

"And are you not affected at all?" I asked, irked. "By my presence?"

Again her mobile features transformed, his expression became soft, warm. She didn't answer at first; she simply turned her face to mine, and brushed her lips slowly along my jaw, from my ear to my chin, back and forth. I trembled.

"Regardless," she finally murmured, "I have better reflexes.”


	15. Mind Over Matter

Edythe could drive well, when she kept the speed reasonable, I had to admit. Like so many things, it seemed to be effortless to her. She barely looked at the road, yet the tires never deviated so much as a centimeter from the center of the lane. She drove one-handed, holding my hand between the seats. Sometimes she gazed into the setting sun, sometimes she glanced at me - my face, my hair blowing out the open window, our hands twined together.

She had turned the radio to an oldies station, and he sang along with a song I'd never heard. She knew every line.

"You like fifties music?" I asked.

"Music in the fifties was good. Much better than the sixties, or the seventies, ugh!" She shuddered. "The eighties were bearable."

"Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?" I asked, tentative, not wanting to upset her buoyant humor.

"Does it matter much?" Her smile, to my relief, remained unclouded.

"No, but I still wonder..." I grimaced. "There's nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night."

"I wonder if it will upset you," she reflected to himself. She gazed into the sun; the minutes passed.

"Try me," I finally said.

She sighed, and then looked into my eyes, seeming to forget the road completely for a time. Whatever she saw there must have encouraged her. She looked into the sun - the light of the setting orb glittered off her skin in ruby-tinged sparkles - and spoke.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901." She paused and glanced at me from the corner of her eyes. My face was carefully unsurprised, patient for the rest. She smiled a tiny smile and continued. "Carine found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza."

She heard my intake of breath, though it was barely audible to my own ears. She looked down into my eyes again.

"I don't remember it well - it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade." She was lost in his thoughts for a short time before she went on. "I do remember how it felt, when Carine saved me. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget."

"Your parents?"

"They had already died from the disease. I was alone. That was why she chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone."

"How did Carine... save you?"

A few seconds passed before she answered. She seemed to choose her words carefully.

"It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carine has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us... I don't think you could find her equal throughout all of history." Edythe paused. "For me, it was merely very, very painful."

I could tell from the set of her lips, she would say no more on this subject. I suppressed my curiosity, though it was far from idle. There were many things I needed to think through on this particular issue, things that were only beginning to occur to me. No doubt her quick mind had already comprehended every aspect that eluded me.

Her soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "Carine acted from loneliness. That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carine's family, though she found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating."

"So you must be dying, then, to become..." We never said the word, and I couldn't frame it now.

"No, that's just Carine. She would never do that to someone who had another choice." The respect in Edythe voice was profound whenever she spoke of Carine. "It is easier she says, though," Edythe continued, "if the blood is weak." She looked at the now-dark road, and I could feel the subject closing again.

"And Eleanor and Rosalie?"

"Carine brought Rosalie to our family next. I didn't realize till much later that she was hoping Rosalie would be to me what Esme was to her - Carine was careful with her thoughts around me." She rolled her eyes. "But she was never more than a sister. It was only two years later that Rosalie found Eleanor. She was hunting - we were in Appalachia at the time - and found a bear about to finish her off. Rosalie carried her back to Carine, more than a hundred miles, afraid she wouldn't be able to do it herself. I'm only beginning to guess how difficult that journey was for her." She threw a pointed glance in my direction, and raised our hands, still folded together, to brush my cheek with the back of her hand.

"But she made it," I encouraged, looking away from the unbearable beauty of Edythe’s blazing eyes.

"Yes," she murmured. "Rosalie saw something in Eleanor’s face that made her strong enough. And they've been together ever since. Lately they’ve been able to live separately from us, as an independant couple. But the younger we pretend to be, the longer we can stay in any given place. Forks seemed perfect, so we all enrolled in high school." She laughed. "I suppose we'll have to go to their wedding in a few years."

"Alex and Jamie?"

"Alex and Jamie are two very rare creatures. They both developed a conscience, as we refer to it, with no outside guidance. Jamie belonged to another... family, a very different kind of family. Jamie became depressed, and they wandered on their own. Alex found them. Like me, Alex has certain gifts above and beyond the norm for our kind."

"Really?" I interrupted, fascinated. "But you said you were the only one who could hear people's thoughts."

"That's true. Alex knows other things. They see things - things that might happen, things that are coming. But it's very subjective. The future isn't set in stone. Things change."

Edythe’s jaw set when she said that, and her eyes darted to my face and away so quickly that I wasn't sure if I only imagined it.

"What kinds of things does Alex see?"

"They saw Jamie and knew that Jamie was looking for them before Jamie knew it themself. Alex saw Carine and our family, and they came together to find us. Alex is most sensitive to non-humans. They always see, for example, when another group of our kind is coming near. And any threat they may pose."

"Are there a lot of... your kind?" I was surprised. How many of them could walk among us undetected?

"No, not many. But most won't settle in any one place. Only those like us, who've given up hunting you people" - a sly glance in my direction - "can live together with humans for any length of time. We've only found one other family like ours, in a small village in Alaska. We lived together for a time, but there were so many of us that we became too noticeable. Those of us who live... differently tend to band together."

"And the others?"

"Nomads, for the most part. We've all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North."

"Why is that?"

We were parked in front of my house now, and she'd turned off the truck. It was very quiet and dark; there was no moon. The porch light was off so I knew my father wasn't home yet.

"Did you have your eyes open this afternoon?" she teased. "Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There's a reason why we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It's nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn't believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years."

"So that's where the legends came from?"

"Probably."

"And Alex came from another family, like Jamie?"

"No, and that is a mystery. Alex doesn't remember their human life at all. And they don’t know who created them. Alex awoke alone. Whoever made them walked away, and none of us understand why, or how, someone could. If Alex hadn't had that other sense, if they hadn't seen Jamie and Carine and known that they would someday become one of us, they probably would have turned into a total savage."

There was so much to think through, so much I still wanted to ask. But, to my great embarrassment, my stomach growled. I'd been so intrigued, I hadn't even noticed I was hungry. I realized now that I was ravenous.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from dinner."

"I'm fine, really."

"I've never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forget."

"I want to stay with you." It was easier to say in the darkness, knowing as I spoke how my voice would betray me, my hopeless addiction to her.

"Can't I come in?" she asked.

"Would you like to?" I couldn't picture it, this godlike creature sitting in my father's shabby kitchen chair.

"Yes, if it's all right." I heard the door close quietly, and almost simultaneously she was outside my door, opening it for me.

"Very human," I complimented her.

"It's definitely resurfacing."

She walked beside me in the night, so quietly I had to peek at her constantly to be sure she was still there. In the darkness she looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in her beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon.

Edythe reached the door ahead of me and opened it for me. I paused halfway through the frame.

"The door was unlocked?"

"No, I used the key from under the eave."

I stepped inside, flicked on the porch light, and turned to look at her with my eyebrows raised. I was sure I'd never used that key in front of her.

"I was curious about you."

"You spied on me?" But somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage. I was flattered.

She was unrepentant. "What else is there to do at night?"

I let it go for the moment and went down the hall to the kitchen. She was there before me, needing no guide. She sat in the very chair I'd tried to picture her in. Her beauty lit up the kitchen. It was a moment before I could look away.

I concentrated on getting my dinner, taking last night's lasagna from the fridge, placing a square on a plate, heating it in the microwave. It revolved, filling the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes and oregano. I didn't take my eyes from the plate of food as I spoke.

"How often?" I asked casually.

"Hmmm?" She sounded as if I had pulled her from some other train of thought.

I still didn't turn around. "How often did you come here?"

"I come here almost every night."

I whirled, stunned. "Why?"

"You're interesting when you sleep," she said casually. "You talk."

"No!" I gasped, heat flooding my face all the way to my hairline. I gripped the kitchen counter for support. I knew I talked in my sleep, of course; my mother teased me about it. I hadn't thought it was something I needed to worry about here, though.

Her expression shifted instantly to chagrin. "Are you very angry with me?"

"That depends!" I felt and sounded like I'd had the breath knocked out of me.

She waited.

"On?" she urged.

"What you heard!" I wailed.

Instantly, silently, she was at my side, taking my hands carefully in her.

"Don't be upset!" she pleaded. She dropped her face to the level of my eyes, holding my gaze. I was embarrassed. I tried to look away.

"You miss your mother," she whispered. "You worry about her. And when it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot, but it's less often now. Once you said, 'It's too green.'" She laughed softly, hoping, I could see, not to offend me further.

"Anything else?" I demanded.

She knew what I was getting at. "You did say my name," she admitted.

I sighed in defeat. "A lot?"

"How much do you mean by 'a lot,' exactly?"

"Oh no!" I hung my head.

She pulled me against her chest, softly, naturally.

"Don't be self-conscious," she whispered in my ear. "If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I'm not ashamed of it."

Then we both heard the sound of tires on the brick driveway, saw the headlights flash through the front windows, down the hall to us. I stiffened in her arms.

"Should your father know I'm here?" she asked.

"I'm not sure..." I tried to think it through quickly.

"Another time then..."

And I was alone.

"Edythe!" I hissed.

I heard a ghostly chuckle, then nothing else.

My father's key turned in the door.

"Bella?" he called. It had bothered me before; who else would it be? Suddenly he didn't seem so far off base.

"In here." I hoped he couldn't hear the hysterical edge to my voice. I grabbed my dinner from the microwave and sat at the table as he walked in. His footsteps sounded so noisy after my day with Edythe.

"Can you get me some of that? I'm bushed." He stepped on the heels of his boots to take them off, holding the back of Edythe's chair for support.

I took my food with me, scarfing it down as I got his dinner. It burned my tongue. I filled two glasses with milk while his lasagna was heating, and gulped mine to put out the fire. As I set the glass down, I noticed the milk trembling and realized my hand was shaking. Charlie sat in the chair, and the contrast between him and its former occupant was comical.

"Thanks," he said as I placed his food on the table.

"How was your day?" I asked. The words were rushed; I was dying to escape to my room.

"Good. The fish were biting... how about you? Did you get everything done that you wanted to?"

"Not really - it was too nice out to stay indoors." I took another big bite.

"It was a nice day," he agreed. What an understatement, I thought to myself.

Finished with the last bite of lasagna, I lifted my glass and chugged the remains of my milk.

Charlie surprised me by being observant. "In a hurry?"

"Yeah, I'm tired. I'm going to bed early."

"You look kinda keyed up," he noted. Why, oh why, did this have to be his night to pay attention?

"Do I?" was all I could manage in response. I quickly scrubbed my dishes clean in the sink, and placed them upside down on a dish towel to dry.

"It's Saturday," he mused.

I didn't respond.

"No plans tonight?" he asked suddenly.

"No, Dad, I just want to get some sleep."

"None of the boys in town your type, eh?" He was suspicious, but trying to play it cool.

"No, none of the boys have caught my eye yet." I was careful not to over-emphasize the word boys in my quest to be truthful with Charlie.

"I thought maybe that Mike Newton... you said he was friendly."

"He's just a friend, Dad."

"Well, you're too good for them all, anyway. Wait till you get to college to start looking." Every father's dream, that his daughter will be out of the house before the hormones kick in.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," I agreed as I headed up the stairs.

"'Night, honey," he called after me. No doubt he would be listening carefully all evening, waiting for me to try to sneak out.

"See you in the morning, Dad." 

I worked to make my tread sound slow and tired as I walked up the stairs to my room. I shut the door loud enough for him to hear, and then sprinted on my tiptoes to the window. I threw it open and leaned out into the night. My eyes scanned the darkness, the impenetrable shadows of the trees.

"Edythe?" I whispered, feeling completely idiotic.

The quiet, laughing response came from behind me. "Yes?"

I whirled, one hand flying to my throat in surprise.

She lay, smiling hugely, across my bed, her hands behind her head, her ankles crossed, the picture of ease.

"Oh!" I breathed, sinking unsteadily to the floor.

"I'm sorry." She pressed her lips together, trying to hide her amusement.

"Just give me a minute to restart my heart."

She sat up slowly, so as not to startle me again. Then she leaned forward and reached out with her pale arms to pick me up, gripping the tops of my arms like I was a toddler. She sat me on the bed beside her.

"Why don't you sit with me," she suggested, putting a cold hand on mine. "How's the heart?"

"You tell me - I'm sure you hear it better than I do."

I felt her quiet laughter shake the bed.

We sat there for a moment in silence, both listening to my heartbeat slow. I thought about having Edythe in my room, with my father in the house.

"Can I have a minute to be human?" I asked.

"Certainly." She gestured with one hand that I should proceed.

"Stay," I said, trying to look severe.

"Yes, ma'am." And she made a show of becoming a statue on the edge of my bed, only her face moving, smile growing wider all the time.

I hopped up, grabbing my pajamas from off the floor, my bag of toiletries off the desk. I left the light off and slipped out, closing the door.

I could hear the sound from the TV rising up the stairs. I banged the bathroom door loudly, so Charlie wouldn't come up to bother me.

I meant to hurry. I brushed my teeth fiercely, trying to be thorough and speedy, removing all traces of lasagna. But the hot water of the shower couldn't be rushed. It unknotted the muscles in my back, calmed my pulse. The familiar smell of my shampoo made me feel like I might be the same person I had been this morning. I tried not to think of Edythe, sitting in my room, waiting, because then I had to start all over with the calming process. Finally, I couldn't delay anymore. I shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. I pulled on my holey t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Too late to regret not packing the Victoria's Secret silk pajamas my mother got me two birthdays ago, which still had the tags on them in a drawer somewhere back home.

I rubbed the towel through my hair again, and then yanked the brush through it quickly. I threw the towel in the hamper, flung my brush and toothpaste into my bag. Then I dashed down the stairs so Charlie could see that I was in my pajamas, with wet hair.

"'Night, Dad."

"'Night, Bella." He did look startled by my appearance. Maybe he’d stop worrying that I might sneak out tonight.

I took the stairs two at a time, trying to be quiet, and flew into my room, closing the door tightly behind me.

Edythe hadn't moved a fraction of an inch, a carving of Aphrodite perched on my faded quilt. I smiled, and her lips twitched, the statue coming to life.

Her eyes appraised me, taking in the damp hair, the tattered shirt. She raised one eyebrow. "Nice."

I grimaced.

"No, it looks good on you."

"Thanks," I whispered. I went back to her side, sitting cross-legged beside her. I looked at the lines in the wooden floor.

"What was all that for?"

"Charlie thinks I'm sneaking out."

"Oh." She contemplated that. "Why?" As if she couldn't know Charlie's mind much more clearly than I could guess.

"Apparently, I look a little overexcited."

She lifted my chin, examining my face.

"You look very warm, actually."

She bent her face slowly to mine, laying her cool cheek against my skin. I held perfectly still.

"Mmmmmm..." she breathed.

It was very difficult, while she was touching me, to frame a coherent question. It took me a minute of scattered concentration to begin.

"It seems to be... much easier for you, now, to be close to me."

"Does it seem that way to you?" she murmured, her nose gliding to the corner of my jaw. I felt her hand, lighter than a moth's wing, brushing my damp hair back, so that her lips could touch the hollow beneath my ear.

"Much, much easier," I said, trying to exhale.

"Hmm."

"So I was wondering..." I began again, but her fingers were slowly tracing my collarbone, and I lost my train of thought.

"Yes?" she breathed.

"Why is that," my voice shook, embarrassing me, "do you think?"

I felt the tremor of his breath on my neck as she laughed. "Mind over matter."

I pulled back; as I moved, she froze - and I could no longer hear the sound of her breathing.

We stared cautiously at each other for a moment, and then, as her clenched jaw gradually relaxed, her expression became puzzled.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No - the opposite. You're driving me crazy," I explained.

She considered that briefly, and when she spoke, she sounded pleased. "Really?" A triumphant smile slowly lit her face.

"Would you like a round of applause?" I asked dryly.

Edythe grinned.

"I'm just pleasantly surprised," she clarified. "In the last hundred years or so," her voice was teasing, "I never imagined anything like this. I didn't believe I would ever find someone I wanted to be with... in another way than my brothers and sisters. And then to find, even though it's all new to me, that I'm good at it... at being with you..."

"You're good at everything," I pointed out.

She shrugged, allowing that, and we both laughed in whispers.

"But how can it be so easy now?" I pressed. "This afternoon..."

"It's not easy," she sighed. "But this afternoon, I was still... undecided. I am sorry about that, it was unforgivable for me to behave so."

"Not unforgivable," I disagreed.

"Thank you." She smiled. "You see," she continued, looking down now, "I wasn't sure if I was strong enough..." She picked up one of my hands and pressed it lightly to her face. "And while there was still that possibility that I might be... overcome" - she breathed in the scent at my wrist - "I was... susceptible. Until I made up my mind that I was strong enough, that there was no possibility at all that I would... that I ever could..."

I'd never seen her struggle so hard for words. It was so... human.

"So there's no possibility now?"

"Mind over matter," she repeated, smiling, her teeth bright even in the darkness.

"Wow, that was easy," I said.

He threw back his head and laughed, quietly as a whisper, but still exuberantly.

"Easy for you!" she amended, touching my nose with his fingertip.

And then her face was abruptly serious.

"I'm trying," she whispered, her voice pained. "If it gets to be... too much, I'm fairly sure I'll be able to leave."

I scowled. I didn't like the talk of leaving.

"And it will be harder tomorrow," she continued. "I've had the scent of you in my head all day, and I've grown amazingly desensitized. If I'm away from you for any length of time, I'll have to start over again. Not quite from scratch, though, I think."

"Never go away," I suggested.

"That suits me," he replied, her face relaxing into a gentle smile. "Bring on the shackles - I'm your prisoner." But her cold hands formed manacles around one of my wrists as she spoke. She laughed her quiet, musical laugh. She'd laughed more tonight than I'd ever heard in all the time I'd spent with her.

“And now, if you don’t mind, may I borrow a blanket?” she asked.

Thrown by the change of subject, it took me a second. “Oh, er, sure. Here.”

I reached around her with my free hand and snagged the old quilt that was folded at the foot of my bed, then offered it to her. She dropped my wrist, took the blanket and shook it out, and then offered it to me.

“I’d be happier if I knew you were comfortable.”

“I’m very comfortable.”

“Please?”

Quickly, I threw the quilt over my shoulders like a cape.

She chuckled quietly. “Not quite what I was thinking.” Before I knew it, the blanket was tucked around me fully and I was lifted into her lap, cradled by her cold arms, but with the quilt as a barrier between any place that our skin might touch.

“Better?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” I replied, though I was thrilled to be this close.

“Good enough?”

“Better than that.”

She laughed again and stroked my hair.

"You seem more... optimistic than usual," I observed. "I haven't seen you like this before."

"Isn't it supposed to be like this?" SHe smiled. "The glory of first love, and all that. It's incredible, isn't it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?"

"Very different," I agreed. "More forceful than I'd imagined."

"For example" - her words flowed swiftly now, I had to concentrate to catch it all - "the emotion of jealousy. I've read about it a hundred thousand times, seen actors portray it in a thousand different plays and movies. I believed I understood that one pretty clearly. But it shocked me..." She grimaced. "Do you remember the day that Mike asked you to the dance?"

I nodded, though I remembered that day for a different reason. "The day you started talking to me again."

"I was surprised by the flare of resentment, almost fury, that I felt - I didn't recognize what it was at first. I was even more aggravated than usual that I couldn't know what you were thinking, why you refused him. Was it simply for your friend's sake? Was there someone else? I knew I had no right to care either way. I tried not to care.

"And then the line started forming," she laughed, and I scowled in the darkness.

"I waited, unreasonably anxious to hear what you would say to them, to watch your expressions. I couldn't deny the relief I felt, watching the annoyance on your face. But I couldn't be sure. I didn’t know what your answer would have been, if I’d asked….

"That was the first night I came here. I wrestled all night, while watching you sleep, with the chasm between what I knew was right, moral, ethical, and what I wanted. I knew that if I continued to ignore you as I should, or if I left for a few years, till you were gone, that someday you would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. It made me angry.

"And then," she whispered, "as you were sleeping, you said my name. You spoke so clearly, at first I thought you'd woken. But you rolled over restlessly and mumbled my name once more, and sighed. The feeling that coursed through me then was unnerving, staggering. And I knew I couldn't ignore you any longer." She was silent for a moment, probably listening to the suddenly uneven pounding of my heart.

"But jealousy... it's a strange thing. So much more powerful than I would have thought. And irrational! Just now, when Charlie asked you about that vile Mike Newton..." She shook her head angrily.

"I should have known you'd be listening," I groaned.

"Of course."

"That made you feel jealous, though, really?"

"I'm new at this; you're resurrecting the human in me, and everything feels stronger because it's fresh."

"But honestly," I teased, "for that to bother you, after I have to hear that Rosalie - Rosalie, the incarnation of pure beauty, Rosalie - was meant for you. Eleanor or no Eleanor, how can I compete with that?"

"There's no competition." Her teeth gleamed and she settled me even more firmly against her chest.

"That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

"Of course Rosalie is beautiful in her way, but even if she wasn't like a sister to me, even if Eleanor didn't belong with her, she could never have one tenth, no, one hundredth of the attraction you hold for me." Edythe was serious now, thoughtful. "For almost ninety years I've walked among my kind, and yours... all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything, because you weren't alive yet."

"It hardly seems fair," I whispered, my face still resting near hers, listening to her breath come and go. "I haven't had to wait at all. Why should I get off so easily?"

"You're right," she agreed with amusement. "I should make this harder for you, definitely." She stroked my wet hair softly, from the top of my head to my waist. "You only have to risk your life every second you spend with me, that's surely not much. You only have to turn your back on nature, on humanity... what's that worth?"

"Very little - I don't feel deprived of anything."

"Not yet." And her voice was abruptly full of ancient grief.

"What -" I started to ask, when her body became alert. I froze, but she was gone, and I was sitting on the bed with my back against thin air.  I narrowly avoided toppling over backwards.

"Lie down!" she hissed. I couldn't tell where she spoke from in the darkness.

I rolled under my quilt, balling up on my side, the way I usually slept. I heard the door crack open, as Charlie peeked in to make sure I was where I was supposed to be. I breathed evenly, exaggerating the movement.

A long minute passed. I listened, not sure if I'd heard the door close. Then Edythe's cool arm was around me, her lips at my ear. She was nestled against my back, cradling me through the covers.

"You are a terrible actress - I'd say that career path is out for you."

"Darn it," I muttered. My heart was crashing in my chest.

She hummed a melody I didn't recognize; it sounded like a lullaby.

She paused. "Should I sing you to sleep?"

"Right," I laughed. "Like I could sleep with you here!"

"You do it all the time," she reminded me.

"But I didn't know you were here," I replied icily.

"So if you don't want to sleep..." she suggested, ignoring my tone. My breath caught.

"If I don't want to sleep... ?"

She chuckled. "What do you want to do then?"

I couldn't answer at first.

"I'm not sure," I finally said.

"Tell me when you decide."

I could feel her cool breath on my neck, feel her nose sliding along my jaw, inhaling.

"I thought you were desensitized."

"Just because I'm resisting the wine doesn't mean I can't appreciate the bouquet," she whispered. "You have a very floral smell, like lavender... or freesia," she noted. "It's mouthwatering."

"Yeah, it's an off day when I don't get somebody telling me how edible I smell."

She chuckled, and then sighed.

"I've decided what I want to do," I told her. "I want to hear more about you."

"Ask me anything."

I sifted through my questions for the most vital. "Why do you do it?" I said. "I still don't understand how you can work so hard to resist what you... are. Please don't misunderstand, of course I'm glad that you do. I just don't see why you would bother in the first place."

She hesitated before answering. "That's a good question, and you are not the first one to ask it. The others - the majority of our kind who are quite content with our lot - they, too, wonder at how we live. But you see, just because we've been... dealt a certain hand... it doesn't mean that we can't choose to rise above - to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted. To try to retain whatever essential humanity we can."

I lay unmoving, locked in awed silence.

"Did you fall asleep?" she whispered after a few minutes.

"No."

"Is that all you were curious about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not quite."

"What else do you want to know?"

"Why can you read minds - why only you? And Alex, seeing the future... why does that happen?"

I felt him shrug in the darkness. "We don't really know. Carine has a theory... she believes that we all bring something of our strongest human traits with us into the next life, where they are intensified - like our minds, and our senses. She thinks that I must have already been very sensitive to the thoughts of those around me. And that Alex had some precognition, wherever they were."

"What did Carine bring into the next life, and the others?"

"Carine brought her compassion. Esme brought her ability to love passionately. Eleanor brought her strength, Rosalie her... tenacity. Or you could call it pigheadedness." Edythe chuckled. "Jamie is very interesting. They were quite charismatic in their first life, able to influence those around them to see things their way. Now Jamie is able to manipulate the emotions of those around them - calm down a room of angry people, for example, or excite a lethargic crowd, conversely. It's a very subtle gift."

I considered the impossibilities Edythe described, trying to take it in. She waited patiently while I thought.

"So where did it all start? I mean, Carine changed you, but someone must have changed her, and so on..."

"Well, where did you come from? Evolution? Creation? Couldn't we have evolved in the same way as other species, predator and prey? The baby seal and the killer whale evolved side by side. Is it so hard to believe that our kinds could have done the same?”

"Let me get this straight - I'm the baby seal, right?"

"Right." She laughed, and something touched my hair - her lips?

I wanted to turn toward Edythe, to see if it was really her lips against my hair. But I had to be good; I didn't want to make this any harder for her than it already was.

"Are you ready to sleep?" she asked, interrupting the short silence. "Or do you have any more questions?"

"Only a million or two."

"We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the next..." she reminded me. I smiled, euphoric at the thought.

"Are you sure you won't vanish in the morning?" I wanted this to be certain. "You are mythical, after all."

"I won't leave you." Her voice had the seal of a promise in it.

"One more, then, tonight..." And I blushed. The darkness was no help - I'm sure she could feel the sudden warmth under my skin.

"What is it?"

"No, forget it. I changed my mind."

"Bella, you can ask me anything."

I didn't answer, and she groaned.

"I keep thinking it will get less frustrating, not hearing your thoughts. But it just gets worse and worse."

"I'm glad you can't read my thoughts. It's bad enough that you eavesdrop on my sleep-talking."

"Please?" Her voice was so persuasive, so impossible to resist.

I tried. I shook my head.

"If you don't tell me, I'll just assume it's something much worse than it is," she threatened darkly. "Please?" Again, that pleading voice.

"Well," I began, glad that she couldn't see my face.

"Yes?"

"You said that Rosalie and Eleanor will get married soon... Is that... marriage... the same as it is for humans?"

She laughed in earnest now, understanding. "Is that what you're getting at?"

I fidgeted, unable to answer.

"Yes, I suppose it is much the same," she said. "I told you, most of those human desires are there, just hidden behind more powerful desires."

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Was there a purpose behind your curiosity?"

"Well, I did wonder... about you and me... someday..."

She was instantly serious, I could tell by the sudden stillness of her body. I froze, too, reacting automatically.

"I don't think that... that... would be possible for us."

"Because it would be too hard for you, if I were that... close?"

"That's certainly a problem. But that's not what I was thinking of. It's just that you are so soft, so fragile. I have to mind my actions every moment that we're together so that I don't hurt you. I could kill you quite easily, Bella, simply by accident." Her voice had become just a soft murmur. She moved her icy palm to rest it against my cheek. "If I was too hasty... if for one second I wasn't paying enough attention, I could reach out, meaning to touch your face, and crush your skull by mistake. You don't realize how incredibly breakable you are. I can never, never afford to lose any kind of control when I'm with you."

She waited for me to respond, growing anxious when I didn't. "Are you scared?" he asked.

I waited for a minute to answer, so the words would be true. "No. I'm fine."

She seemed to deliberate for a moment. "I'm curious now, though," she said, her voice light again. "Have you ever... ?" She trailed off suggestively.

"No." I flushed. "I told you I've never felt like this about anyone before, not even close."

"I know. It's just that I know other people's thoughts. I know love and lust don't always keep the same company."

"They do for me. Now, anyway, that they exist for me at all," I sighed.

"That's nice. We have that one thing in common, at least." She sounded satisfied.

"Your human instincts..." I began. She waited. "Well, do you find me attractive, in that way, at all? It’s just that you’re beautiful--inhumanly beautiful, literally--and I’m just...me." 

I could sense her smiling behind me. “Would you like me to tell you an abbreviated list of the things that I find most beautiful?”

I blushed again. “You don’t have to.”

“It was your eyes first. You have lovely eyes, Bella like a sky without clouds. I’ve spent all my life in rainy climates and so I often miss the sky, but not when I’m with you. Next it was your legs--I’m  _ very  _ fond of your legs, Bella. I don’t know how you manage to be so clumsy when your limbs look so graceful on their own. Or maybe it was your lips second…” Her fingers brushed my face, like she thought I might not know what she meant. “I’m not entirely sure. It all took me quite by surprise when I realized not only did I find you delicious, but also beautiful.”

My face was burning now. I could hardly believe it was true, but Edythe was pretty convincing.

“Oh, and I didn’t even mention your  _ hair _ .” Her fingernails combed against my scalp and tugged through the mass of my hair.

“Okay, now I  _ know _ you’re teasing me,” I complained.

“I’m truly not,” she retorted. “Did you know that your hair is just precisely the same shade as a teak inlaid ceiling in a monastery I once stayed in at...I think it would be Cambodia now?”

“Um, no, I did not.” I yawned involuntarily.

She laughed softly. “Did I address your concerns to your satisfaction?”

“Er, yes.”

“Then you should sleep.”

"I'm not sure if I can."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" I said too loudly.

She laughed, and then began to hum that same, unfamiliar lullaby; the voice of an angel, soft in my ear.

More tired than I realized, exhausted from the long day of mental and emotional stress like I'd never felt before, I drifted to sleep in her cold arms.


	16. The Cullens

The muted light of yet another cloudy day eventually woke me. I lay with my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something, a dream trying to be remembered, struggled to break into my consciousness. I moaned and rolled on my side, hoping more sleep would come. And then the previous day flooded back into my awareness.

"Oh!" I sat up so fast it made my head spin.

"Your hair looks like a haystack... but I like it." Her unruffled voice came from the rocking chair in the corner.

"Edythe! You stayed!" I rejoiced, and thoughtlessly threw myself across the room and into her lap. In the instant that my thoughts caught up with my actions, I froze, shocked by my own uncontrolled enthusiasm. I stared up at her, afraid that I had crossed the wrong line.

But she laughed.

"Of course," she answered, startled, but seeming pleased by my reaction. Her hands rubbed my back.

I laid my head cautiously against her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her skin.

"I was sure it was a dream."

"You're not that creative," she scoffed.

"Charlie!" I remembered, thoughtlessly jumping up again and heading to the door.

"He left an hour ago - after reattaching your battery cables, I might add. I have to admit I was disappointed. Is that really all it would take to stop you, if you were determined to go?"

I deliberated where I stood, wanting to return to her badly, but afraid I might have morning breath.

"You're not usually this confused in the morning," she noted. She held her arms open for me to return. A nearly irresistible invitation.

"I need another human minute," I admitted.

"I'll wait."

I skipped to the bathroom, my emotions unrecognizable. I didn't know myself, inside or out. The face in the mirror was practically a stranger - eyes too bright, hectic spots of red across my cheekbones. After I brushed my teeth, I worked to straighten out the tangled chaos that was my hair. I splashed my face with cold water, and tried to breathe normally, with no noticeable success. I half-ran back to my room.

It seemed like a miracle that she was there, her arms still waiting for me. She reached out to me, and my heart thumped unsteadily.

"Welcome back," she murmured, taking me into her arms.

She rocked me for a while in silence, until I noticed that her clothes were changed, her hair smooth.

"You left?" I accused, touching the sleeve of her fresh shirt, a peach-colored sweater.

"I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in - what would the neighbors think?"

I pouted.

"You were very deeply asleep; I didn't miss anything." Her eyes gleamed. "The talking came earlier."

I groaned. "What did you hear?"

Her gold eyes grew very soft. "You said you loved me."

"You knew that already," I reminded her, ducking my head.

"It was nice to hear, just the same."

I hid my face against her shoulder.

"I love you," I whispered.

"You are my life now," she answered simply.

There was nothing more to say for the moment. She rocked us back and forth as the room grew lighter.

"Breakfast time," she said eventually, casually - to prove, I'm sure, that she remembered all my human frailties.

So I clutched my throat with both hands and stared at her with wide eyes. She flinched; then her eyes narrowed and she scowled at me.

"Kidding!" I snickered. "And you said I couldn't act!"

"That wasn't funny."

"It was very funny, and you know it." But I examined her gold eyes carefully, to make sure that I was forgiven. Apparently, I was.

"Shall I rephrase?" she asked. "Breakfast time for the human."

"Oh, okay."

She tugged my down the steps by my hand, seeming to float over them.

The kitchen was bright, happy, seeming to absorb my mood.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked pleasantly.

That threw her for a minute.

"Er, I'm not sure. What would you like?" her marble brow puckered.

I grinned, hopping up.

"That's all right, I fend for myself pretty well. Watch me hunt."

I found a bowl and a box of cereal. I could feel her eyes on me as I poured the milk and grabbed a spoon. I sat my food on the table, and then paused.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked, not wanting to be rude.

She rolled her eyes. "Just eat, Bella."

I sat at the table, watching her as I took a bite. She was gazing at me, studying my every movement. It made me self-conscious. I cleared my mouth to speak, to distract her.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked.

"Hmmm..." I watched her frame her answer carefully. "What would you say to meeting my family?"

I gulped.

"Are you afraid now?" she sounded hopeful.

"Yes," I admitted; how could I deny it - she could see my eyes.

"Don't worry." she smirked. "I'll protect you."

"I'm not afraid of them," I explained. "I'm afraid they won't... like me. Won't they be, well, surprised that you would bring someone... like me... home to meet them? Do they know that I know about them?"

"Oh, they already know everything. They'd taken bets yesterday, you know" - she smiled, but her voice was harsh - "on whether I'd bring you back, though why anyone would bet against Alex, I can't imagine. At any rate, we don't have secrets in the family. It's not really feasible, what with my mind reading and Alex seeing the future and all that."

"And Jamie making you feel all warm and fuzzy about spilling your guts, don't forget that."

"You paid attention," she smiled approvingly.

"I've been known to do that every now and then." I grimaced. "So did Alex see me coming?"

Her reaction was strange. "Something like that," she said uncomfortably, turning away so I couldn't see her eyes. I stared at her curiously.

"Is that any good?" she asked, turning back to me abruptly and eyeing my breakfast with a teasing look on her face. "Honestly, it doesn't look very appetizing."

"Well, it's no irritable grizzly..." I murmured, ignoring her when she glowered. I was still wondering why she responded that way when I mentioned Alex. I hurried through my cereal, speculating.

Edythe stood in the middle of the kitchen, a perfect statue again, staring abstractedly out the back windows.

Then her eyes were back on me, and she smiled her heartbreaking smile.

"And you should introduce me to your father, too, I think."

"He already knows you," I reminded her.

"As your girlfriend, I mean."

I stared at her with suspicion. "Why?"

"Isn't that customary?" she asked innocently.

"I don't know," I admitted. My dating history gave me few reference points to work with. Not that any normal rules of dating applied here. "That's not necessary, you know. I don't expect you to... I mean, you don't have to pretend for me."

Her smile was patient. "I'm not pretending."

I pushed the remains of my cereal around the edges of the bowl, biting my lip.

"Are you going to tell Charlie I'm your girlfriend or not?" she demanded.

"Is that what you are?" I suppressed my internal cringing at the thought of Edythe and Charlie and the word girlfriend all in the same room at the same time.

"It's a loose interpretation of the word ‘girl,' I'll admit."

"I was under the impression that you were something more, actually," I confessed, looking at the table.

"Well, I don't know if we need to give him all the gory details." She reached across the table to lift my chin with a cold, gentle finger. "But he will need some explanation for why I'm around here so much. I don't want Chief Swan getting a restraining order put on me."

"Will you be?" I asked, suddenly anxious. "Will you really be here?"

"As long as you want me," she assured me.

"I'll always want you," I warned her. "Forever."

Sje walked slowly around the table, and, pausing a few feet away, she reached out to touch her fingertips to my cheek. Her expression was unfathomable.

"Does that make you sad?" I asked.

She didn't answer. She stared into my eyes for an immeasurable period of time.

"Are you finished?" she finally asked.

I jumped up. "Yes."

"Get dressed - I'll wait here."

It was hard to decide what to wear. I doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire sweetheart takes you home to meet her vampire family. It was a relief to think the word to myself. I knew I shied away from it intentionally.

I ended up in my only skirt - long, khaki-colored, still casual. I put on the dark blue blouse she'd once complimented. A quick glance in the mirror told me my hair was entirely impossible, so I pulled it back into a ponytail.

"Okay." I bounced down the stairs. "I'm decent."

She was waiting at the foot of the stairs, closer than I'd thought, and I bounded right into her. She steadied me, holding me a careful distance away for a few seconds before suddenly pulling me closer.

"Wrong again," she murmured in my ear. "You are utterly indecent - no one should look so tempting, it's not fair."

"Tempting how?" I asked. "I can change..."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You are so absurd." She pressed her cool lips delicately to my forehead, and the room spun. The smell of her breath made it impossible to think.

"Shall I explain how you are tempting me?" she said. It was clearly a rhetorical question. her fingers traced slowly down my spine, her breath coming more quickly against my skin. My hands were limp on her chest, and I felt lightheaded again. she tilted her head slowly and touched her cool lips to mine for the second time, very carefully, parting them slightly.

And then I collapsed.

"Bella?" her voice was alarmed as she caught me and held me up.

"You... made... me... faint," I accused her dizzily.

"What am I going to do with you?" She groaned in exasperation. "Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me! Today you pass out on me!"

I laughed weakly, letting her arms support me while my head spun.

"So much for being good at everything," she sighed.

"That's the problem." I was still dizzy. "You're too good. Far, far too good."

"Do you feel sick?" she asked; she'd seen me like this before.

"No - that wasn't the same kind of fainting at all. I don't know what happened." I shook my head apologetically. "I think I forgot to breathe."

"I can't take you anywhere like this."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Your family is going to think I'm insane anyway, what's the difference?"

She measured my expression for a moment. "I'm very partial to that color with your skin," she offered unexpectedly. I flushed with pleasure, and looked away.

"Look, I'm trying really hard not to think about what I'm about to do, so can we go already?" I asked.

"And you're worried, not because you're headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but because you think those vampires won't approve of you, correct?"

"That's right," I answered immediately, hiding my surprise at her casual use of the word.

She shook her head. "You're incredible."

I realized, as she drove my truck out of the main part of town, that I had no idea where she lived. We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when she turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees.

And then, after a few miles, there was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn't relent, though, for there were six primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story.

I don't know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn't this. The house was timeless, graceful, and probably a hundred years old. It was painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned. The windows and doors were either part of the original structure or a perfect restoration. My truck was the only car in sight. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest.

"Wow."

"You like it?" she smiled.

"It... has a certain charm."

She pulled the end of my ponytail and chuckled.

"Ready?" she asked, opening my door.

"Not even a little bit - let's go." I tried to laugh, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. I smoothed my hair nervously.

"You look lovely." she took my hand easily, without thinking about it.

We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew she could feel my tension; her thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of my hand.

She opened the door for me.

The inside was even more surprising, less predictable, than the exterior. It was very bright, very open, and very large. This must have originally been several rooms, but the walls had been removed from most of the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass, and, beyond the shade of the cedars, the lawn stretched bare to the wide river. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high-beamed ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all varying shades of white.

Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, were Edythe's parents.

I'd seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, yet I couldn't help but be struck again by her youth, her outrageous perfection. At her side was Esme, I assumed, the only one of the family I'd never seen before. She had the same pale, beautiful features as the rest of them. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft, caramel-colored hair, reminded me of the ingénues of the silent-movie era. She was small, slender, yet less angular, more rounded than the others. They were both dressed casually, in light colors that matched the inside of the house. They smiled in welcome, but made no move to approach us. Trying not to frighten me, I guessed.

"Carine, Esme," Edythe's voice broke the short silence, "this is Bella."

"You're very welcome, Bella." Carine's step was measured, careful as she approached me. She raised her hand tentatively, and I stepped forward to shake hands with her.

"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen."

"Please, call me Carine."

"Carine." I grinned at her, my sudden confidence surprising me. I could feel Edythe's relief at my side.

Esme smiled and stepped forward as well, reaching for my hand. Her cold, stone grasp was just as I expected.

"It's very nice to know you," she said sincerely.

"Thank you. I'm glad to meet you, too." And I was. It was like meeting a fairy tale - Snow White, in the flesh.

"Where are Alex and Jamie?" Edythe asked, but no one answered, as they had just appeared at the top of the wide staircase.

"Hey, Edythe!" Alex called enthusiastically. They ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and white skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of me. Carine and Esme shot warning glances at them, but I liked it. It was natural - for Alex, anyway.

"Hi, Bella!" Alex said, and bounced forward to kiss my cheek. If Carine and Esme had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in my eyes, too, but I was also very pleased that they seemed to approve of me so entirely. I was startled to feel Edythe stiffen at my side. I glanced at her face, but her expression was unreadable.

"You do smell nice, I never noticed before," they commented, to my extreme embarrassment.

No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and then Jamie was there, quiet and leonine. A feeling of ease spread through me, and I was suddenly comfortable despite where I was. Edythe stared at Jamie, raising one eyebrow, and I remembered what Jamie could do.

"Hello, Bella," Jamie said. They kept their distance, not offering to shake my hand. But it was impossible to feel awkward near them.

"Hello, Jamie." I smiled at her shyly, and then at the others. "It's nice to meet you all - you have a very beautiful home," I added conventionally.

"Thank you," Esme said. "We're so glad that you came." She spoke with feeling, and I realized that she thought I was brave.

I also realized that Rosalie and Eleanor were nowhere to be seen, and I remembered Edythe's too-innocent denial when I'd asked her if the others didn't like me.

Carine's expression distracted me from this train of thought; she was gazing meaningfully at Edythe with an intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edythe nod once.

I looked away, trying to be polite. My eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. I suddenly remembered my childhood fantasy that, should I ever win a lottery, I would buy a grand piano for my mother. She wasn't really good - she only played for herself on our secondhand upright - but I loved to watch her play. She was happy, absorbed - she seemed like a new, mysterious being to me then, someone outside the "mom" persona I took for granted. She'd put me through lessons, of course, but like most kids, I whined until she let me quit.

Esme noticed my preoccupation.

"Do you play?" she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.

I shook my head. "Not at all. But it's so beautiful. Is it yours?"

"No," she laughed. "Edythe didn't tell you she was musical?"

"No." I glared at Edythe’s suddenly innocent expression with narrowed eyes. "I should have known, I guess."

Esme raised her delicate eyebrows in confusion.

"Edythe can do everything, right?" I explained.

Jamie snickered and Esme gave Edythe a reproving look.

"I hope you haven't been showing off--it's rude," she scolded.

"Just a bit," she laughed freely. Esme’s face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look that I didn't understand, though Esme's face seemed almost smug.

"She's been too modest, actually," I corrected.

"Well, play for her," Esme encouraged.

"You just said showing off was rude," Edythe objected.

"There are exceptions to every rule," Esme replied.

"I'd like to hear you play," I volunteered.

"It's settled then." Esme pushed Edythe toward the piano. She pulled me along, sitting me on the bench beside her.

Edythe gave me a long, exasperated look before she turned to the keys.

And then her fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. I felt my chin drop, my mouth open in astonishment, and heard low chuckles behind me at my reaction.

Edythe looked at me casually, the music still surging around us without a break, and winked. "Do you like it?"

"You wrote this?" I gasped, understanding.

He nodded. "It's Esme's favorite."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm feeling extremely insignificant."

The music slowed, transforming into something softer, and to my surprise I detected the melody of her lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.

"You inspired this one," she said softly. The music grew unbearably sweet.

I couldn't speak.

"They like you, you know," she said conversationally. "Esme especially."

I glanced behind me, but the huge room was empty now.

"Where did they go?"

"Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose."

I sighed. "They like me. But Rosalie and Eleanor..." I trailed off, not sure how to express my doubts.

Edythe frowned. "Don't worry about Rosalie," she said, her eyes wide and persuasive. "She'll come around."

I pursed my lips skeptically. "Eleanor?"

"Well, she thinks I'm a lunatic, it's true, but she doesn't have a problem with you. She's trying to reason with Rosalie."

"What is it that upsets her?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.

She sighed deeply. "Rosalie struggles the most with... with what we are. It's hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she's a little jealous."

"Rosalie is jealous of me?" I asked incredulously. I tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel jealous of someone like me.

"You're human." she shrugged. "She wishes that she were, too."

"Oh," I muttered, still stunned. "Even Jamie, though..."

"That's really my fault," she said. "I told you they were the most recent to try our way of life. I warned them to keep their distance."

I thought about the reason for that, and shuddered.

"Esme and Carine... ?" I continued quickly, to keep her from noticing.

"Are happy to see me happy. Actually, Esme wouldn't care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time she's been worried about me, afraid that there was something missing from my essential makeup, that I was too young when Carine changed me... She's ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she just about chokes with satisfaction."

"Alex seems very... enthusiastic."

"Alex has their own way of looking at things," Edythe said through tight lips.

"And you're not going to explain that, are you?"

A moment of wordless communication passed between us. She realized that I knew she was keeping something from me. I realized that she wasn't going to give anything away. Not now.

"So what was Carine telling you before?"

Her eyebrows pulled together. "You noticed that, did you?"

I shrugged. "Of course."

Edythe looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. "She wanted to tell me some news - she didn't know if it was something I would share with you."

"Will you?"

"It’s probably a good idea. My behavior might be a little...odd for the next few days--or weeks. A little maniacal. So it’s best if I explain myself beforehand."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly. Alex just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we're here, and they're curious."

"Visitors?"

"Yes... well, they aren't like us, of course - in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won't come into town at all, but I'm certainly not going to let you out of my sight till they're gone."

I shivered.

"Finally, a rational response!" she murmured. "I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all."

I let that one pass, looking away, my eyes wandering again around the spacious room.

She followed my gaze. "Not what you expected, is it?" she asked, her voice smug.

"No," I admitted.

"No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don't even think we have cobwebs... what a disappointment this must be for you," she continued slyly.

I ignored her teasing. "It's so light... so open."

She was more serious when she answered. "It's the one place we never have to hide."

The song she was still playing, my song, drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.

"Thank you," I murmured. I realized there were tears in my eyes. I dabbed at them, embarrassed.

She touched the corner of my eye, trapping one I missed. She lifted her finger, examining the drop of moisture broodingly. Then, so quickly I couldn't be positive that she really did, she put her finger to her mouth to taste it.

I looked at her questioningly, and she gazed back for a long moment before she finally smiled.

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?"

"No coffins?" I verified, the sarcasm in my voice not entirely masking the slight but genuine anxiety I felt.

She laughed, taking my hand, leading me away from the piano.

"No coffins," she promised.

We walked up the massive staircase, my hand trailing along the satin-smooth rail. The long hall at the top of the stairs was paneled with a honey-colored wood, the same as the floorboards.

"Rosalie and Eleanor's room... Carine's office... Alex's room..." she gestured as she led me past the doors.

She would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edythe chuckled at my bewildered expression.

"You can laugh," she said. "It is sort of ironic."

I didn't laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn't touch it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked.

"It must be very old," I guessed.

Edythe shrugged. "Early sixteen-thirties, more or less."

I looked away from the cross to stare at her.

"Why do you keep this here?" I wondered.

"Nostalgia. It belonged to Carine's father."

"He collected antiques?" I suggested doubtfully.

"No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."

I wasn't sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.

"Are you all right?" She sounded worried.

"How old is Carine?" I asked quietly, ignoring her question, still staring up.

"She just celebrated her three hundred and sixty-second birthday," Edythe said. I looked back at her, a million questions in my eyes.

She watched me carefully as she spoke.

"Carine was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, she believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though."

I kept my face composed, aware of her scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I didn't try to believe.

"She was the only daughter of an Anglican pastor. Her mother died giving birth to him. Her father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves... and vampires." I grew very still at the word. I'm sure Edythe noticed, but she went on without pausing.

"They burned a lot of innocent people - of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

“Carine did what she could to protect those innocents. She was always a believer in the scientific method, and she tried to convince her father to look past superstition to true evidence. He discouraged her involvement. He did love her, and those who defended monsters were often lumped in with them.

“Her father was persistent...and obsessive. Against the odds, he tracked some evidence of real monsters. Carine begged him to be careful, and he listened, to an extent. Rather than charge in blindly, he waited and watched for a long time. He spied on a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

"The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course" - her brief laugh was darker now - "and waited where Carine had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged."

Her voice was very quiet; I strained to catch the words.

“Nothing happened. They waited a long time, and then left disappointed. The pastor was angry--there must have been other exits, and the vampires had obviously fled in fear. Of course, the men with their crude spears and axes weren’t any kind of danger to a vampire, but he didn’t know that. Now that they were warned, how would he ever find his monsters again?”

Edythe’s voice got even lower. “It wasn’t hard. He must have annoyed them. Vampires can’t afford notoriety, or these probably would have massacred the entire mob. Instead, one of them followed him home.

“Carine remembers the night clearly--for a human memory. It was the kind of thing that would stick in your mind. Her father came home very late, or rather very early. Carine had waited up, worried. He was furious, ranting and raving about his loss. Carien tried to calm him, but he ignored her. And then there was a man in the middle of their small room.

“Carine says he was ragged, dressed like a beggar, but  his face was beautiful and he spoke in Latin. Because of her father’s vocation and her own curiosity, Carine was unusually educated for a woman in those days--she understood what the man said. He told her father that he was a fool and would pay for the damage he had caused. The preacher threw himself in front of his daughter to protect her….

“I often wonder about that moment. If he hadn’t revealed what he loved most, would all our stories have changed?”

Edythe was thoughtful for a few seconds, then she continued. “The vampire smiled. He told Carine’s father, ‘Go to your hell knowing this--that what you love will become all that you hate.’

“He tossed the preacher to the side and grabbed Carine--”

She’d seemed lost in the story, but now Edythe stopped short. Her eyes came back to the present, and she looked at me like she’d said something wrong. Or maybe she’d thought she’d upset me.

“What happened?” I whispered.

When she spoke, it was like she was choosing each word carefully. “He made sure that the preacher knew what would happen to Carine, and then he killed the preacher very slowly while Carine watched, writhing in pain and horror.”

I recoiled. Edythe nodded in sympathy.

“The vampire left. Carine knew her fate if someone found her in this condition. Anything infected by the monster would have to be destroyed. Carine acted instinctively to save her own life. Despite the pain she crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and her victim. she hid in a cellar, buried herself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle she was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

"It was over then, and she realized what she had become."

I'm not sure what my face was revealing, but she suddenly broke off.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I assured her. And, though I bit my lip in hesitation, she must have seen the curiosity burning in my eyes.

She smiled. "I expect you have a few more questions for me."

"A few."

Her smile widened over her brilliant teeth. she started back down the hall, pulling me along by the hand. "Come on, then," she encouraged. "I'll show you."


	17. Carine

Edythe led me back to the room that she'd pointed out as Carine's office. She paused outside the door for an instant.

"Come in," Carine's voice invited.

Edythe opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood - where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above my head and held more books than I'd ever seen outside a library.

Carine sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair. She was just placing a bookmark in the pages of the thick volume she held. The room was how I'd always imagined a college dean's would look - only Carine looked too young to fit the part.

"What can I do for you?" she asked us pleasantly, rising from her seat.

"I wanted to show Bella some of our history," Edythe said. "Well, your history, actually."

"We didn't mean to disturb you," I apologized.

"Not at all. Where are you going to start?"

"The Waggoner," Edythe replied, placing one hand lightly on my shoulder and spinning me around to look back toward the door we'd just come through. Every time she touched me, in even the most casual way, my heart had an audible reaction. It was more embarrassing with Carine there.

The wall we faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. I searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but I found nothing in a cursory examination.

Edythe pulled me toward the far left side, standing me in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.

"London in the sixteen-fifties," Edythe said.

"The London of my youth," Carine added, from a few feet behind us. I flinched; I hadn't heard her approach. Edythe squeezed my hand.

"Will you tell the story?" Edythe asked. I twisted a little to see Carine's reaction.

Carine met my glance and smiled. "I would," she replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning - Dr. Snow is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," she added, grinning at Edythe now.

It was a strange combination to absorb - the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of her early days in seventeenth-century London.

It was also unsettling to know that she spoke aloud only for my benefit.

After another warm smile for me, Carine left the room.

I stared at the little picture of Carine's hometown for a long moment.

"What happened then?" I finally asked, staring up at Edythe, who was watching me. "When she realized what had happened to her?"

Edythe glanced back to the paintings, and I looked to see which image caught her interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors - an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.

"When she knew what she had become," Edythe said quietly, "she rebelled against it. She tried to destroy herself. But that's not easily done."

"How?" I didn't mean to say it aloud, but the word broke through my shock.

"She jumped from great heights," Edythe told me, her voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean... but she was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that she was able to resist... feeding... while she was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, when one of us is young. It takes over everything. But she was so repelled by herself that she had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."

"Is that possible?" My voice was faint.

"No, there are very few ways we can be killed."

I opened my mouth to ask, but Edythe spoke before I could.

"So Carine grew very hungry, and eventually weak. She strayed as far as she could from the human populace, recognizing that her willpower was weakening, too. For months she wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing herself.

"One night, a herd of deer passed her hiding place. She was so wild with thirst that she attacked without a thought. Her strength returned and she realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster she feared. Had she not eaten venison in her former life? Over the next months her new philosophy was born. She could exist without being a demon. She found herself again.

"She began to make better use of her time. Carine had always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now she had unlimited time before her. She studied by night, planned by day. She swam to France and -"

"Carine swam to France?"

"People swim the Channel all the time, Bella," Edythe reminded me patiently.

"That's true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on."

"Swimming is easy for us -"

"Everything is easy for you," I griped.

She waited, her expression amused.

"I won't interrupt again, I promise."

She smiled darkly, and finished her sentence. "Because, technically, we don't need to breathe."

"You -"

"No, no, you promised," she laughed, putting her cold finger lightly to my lips. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"You can't spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything," I mumbled against her finger.

Edythe lifted her hand, moving it to rest against my neck. The speed of my heart reacted to that, but I persisted.

"You don't have to breathe?" I demanded.

"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." She shrugged.

"How long can you go... without breathing?"

"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable - being without a sense of smell."

"A bit uncomfortable," I echoed.

I wasn't paying attention to my own expression, but something in it made her grow somber. her hand dropped to her side and she stood very still, her eyes intent on my face. The silence lengthened. her features were immobile as stone.

"What is it?" I whispered, touching her frozen face.

Her face softened under my hand, and she sighed. "I keep waiting for it to happen."

"For what to happen?"

"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go." She smiled half a smile, but her eyes were serious. "I won't stop you. I want this to happen, because I want you to be safe. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile..." she trailed off, staring at my face. Waiting.

"I'm not running anywhere," I promised.

"We'll see," she said, smiling again.

I frowned at her. "So, go on - Carine was swimming to France."

She paused, settling into the story again. Reflexively, her eyes flickered to another picture - the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies. I couldn't tell if it represented Greek mythology, or if the characters floating in the clouds above were meant to be biblical.

"Carine swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night she studied music, science, medicine - and found her calling, her penance, in that, in saving human lives." Edythe’s expression became awed, almost reverent. "I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carine two centuries of torturous effort to perfect her self-control. Now she is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and she is able to do the work she loves without agony. She finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital..." Edythe stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly she seemed to recall her purpose. She tapped her finger against the huge painting in front of us.

"Carine was studying in Italy when she discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers."

Edythe touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. I examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that I recognized the golden-haired woman standing off to one side.

"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carine's friends. He often painted them as gods," Edythe chuckled. "Sulpicia, Marcus, and Athenodora," she said, indicating the other three. "Nighttime patrons of the arts."

The first woman and man were black-haired, the third woman pale blond. All were richly colored gowns, while Carine was painted in white.

“What about this one?” I asked, pointed to a small, nondescript girl with light brown hair and clothes. She was on her knees clinging to the other woman’s skirts--the woman with the elaborate black curls.

“Mele,” Edythe said. “A...servant, I suppose you could call her. Sulpicia’s little thief.”

"What happened to them?" I wondered aloud, my fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.

"They're still there." She shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Carine stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. She greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure her aversion to 'her natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade her, and she tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carine decided to try the New World. She dreamed of finding others like herself. She was very lonely, you see.

"She didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, she found she could interact with unsuspecting humans as if she were one of them. She began practicing medicine. But the companionship she craved evaded her; she couldn't risk familiarity.

"When the influenza epidemic hit, she was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. She'd been turning over an idea in her mind for several years, and she had almost decided to act - since she couldn't find a companion, she would create one. She wasn't absolutely sure how her own transformation had occurred, so she was hesitant. And she was loath to steal anyone's life the way hers had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that she found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. She had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. She decided to try..."

Her voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. Edythe stared unseeingly through the west windows. I wondered which images filled her mind now, Carine's memories or her own. I waited quietly.

When she turned back to me, a gentle angel's smile lit her expression.

"And so we've come full circle," she concluded.

"Have you always stayed with Carine, then?" I wondered.

"Almost always." She put her hand lightly on my waist and pulled me with her as she walked through the door. I stared back at the wall of pictures, wondering if I would ever get to hear the other stories.

Edythe didn't say any more as we walked down the hall, so I asked, "Almost?"

She sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence - about ten years after I was... born... created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on her life of abstinence, and I resented Carine for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own for a time."

"Really?" I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should have been.

She could tell. I vaguely realized that we were headed up the next flight of stairs, but I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings.

"That doesn't repulse you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I guess... it sounds reasonable."

She barked a laugh, more loudly than before. We were at the top of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.

"From the time of my new birth," she murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carine - I could read her perfect sincerity, understand exactly why she lived the way she did.

"It took me only a few years to return to Carine and recommit to her vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression... that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl - if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."

I shivered, imagining only too clearly what she described - the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edythe, Edythe as she hunted, terrible and glorious Artemis, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?

"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carine and Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."

We'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.

"My room," Edythe informed me, opening it and pulling me through.

Her room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. Her view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed.

The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. Her room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to touch because I'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.

"Good acoustics?" I guessed.

She laughed and nodded.

She picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with us. I went to look at her mind-boggling music collection.

"How do you have these organized?" I asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.

She wasn't paying attention.

"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," she said absently.

I turned, and she was looking at me with a peculiar expression in her eyes.

"What?"

"I was prepared to feel... relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me... happy." She shrugged, smiling slightly.

"I'm glad," I said, smiling back. I'd worried that she might regret telling me these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case.

But then, as her eyes dissected my expression, her smile faded and her forehead creased.

"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" I guessed.

A faint smile touched her lips, and she nodded.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as you think you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually," I lied casually.

She stopped, raising her eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then she flashed a wide, wicked smile.

"You really shouldn't have said that," she told me.

And then she  _ growled _ , a low sound that ripped up the back of her throat and didn’t sound human at all.  Her smile got wider until it changed from a smile into a display of teeth. Her body shifted, and she was half-crouched, her back stretched long and curved in, like a cat tensed to pounce.

I backed away from her, glaring.

"You wouldn't."

I didn't see her leap at me - it was much too fast. I only found myself suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, her arms formed an iron cage of protection around me - I was barely jostled. But I still was gasping as I tried to right myself.

She wasn't having that. She curled me into a ball against her chest, holding me more securely than iron chains. I glared at her in alarm, but she seemed well in control, her jaw relaxed as she grinned, her eyes bright only with humor.

"You were saying?" she growled playfully.

"That you are a very, very terrifying monster," I said, my sarcasm marred a bit by my breathless voice.

"Much better," she approved.

"Um." I struggled. "Can I get up now?"

She just laughed.

"Can we come in?" a soft voice sounded from the hall.

I struggled to free myself, but Edythe merely readjusted me so that I was somewhat more conventionally seated on the couch, legs pulled across her lap. I could see it was Alex, then, and Jamie in the doorway. My cheeks burned, but Edythe seemed at ease.

"Go ahead." Edythe was still smiling to herself.

Alex seemed to find nothing unusual in our embrace; they walked to the center of the room and folded themself onto the floor in a motion so graceful it was kind of surreal. Jamie, however, paused at the door, their expression a trifle shocked. Jamie stared at Edythe's face, and I wondered if they were tasting the atmosphere with their unusual sensitivity.

"It sounded like you were having Bella for lunch, and we came to see if you would share," Alex announced.

I stiffened for an instant, until I realized Edythe was grinning - whether at Alex’s comment or my response, I couldn't tell.

"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," she replied, her arms holding me recklessly close.

"Actually," Jamie said, smiling despite themself as they walked into the room, "Alex says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Eleanor wants to play ball. Are you game?"

The words were all common enough, but the context confused me. I gathered that Alex was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though.

Edythe's eyes lit up, but she hesitated.

"Of course you should bring Bella," Alex said. I thought I saw Jamie throw a quick glance at them.

"Do you want to go?" Edythe asked me, excited, her expression vivid.

"Sure." I couldn't disappoint such a face. "Um, where are we going?"

"We have to wait for thunder to play ball - you'll see why," she promised.

"Will I need an umbrella?"

They all three laughed aloud.

"Will she?" Jamie asked Alex.

"No." Alex was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing."

"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Jamie's voice was catching, naturally. I found myself eager, rather than scared stiff.

"Let's go see if Carine will come." Alex bounded up and to the door in a fashion that would break any dancer's heart.

"Like you don't know," Jamie teased, and they were swiftly on their way. Jamie managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.

"What will we be playing?" I demanded.

"You will be watching," Edythe clarified. "We will be playing baseball."

I rolled my eyes. "Vampires like baseball?"

“We thought about roller derby,” she said with mock solemnity, “or softball. But we found baseball works best. Besides.” She flashed her weaponized dimples at me. “It's the American pastime."


	18. The Game

It was just beginning to drizzle when Edythe turned onto my street. Up until that moment, I'd had no doubt that she'd be staying with me while I spent a few interim hours in the real world.

And then I saw the black car, a weathered Ford, parked in Charlie's driveway - and heard Edythe mutter something unintelligible in a low, harsh voice.

Leaning away from the rain under the shallow front porch, Julie Black stood behind her mother's wheelchair. Bonnie's face was impassive as stone as Edythe parked my truck against the curb. Julie stared down, her expression mortified.

Edythe's low voice was furious. "This is crossing the line."

"She came to warn Charlie?" I guessed, more horrified than angry.

Edythe just nodded, answering Bonnie's gaze through the rain with narrowed eyes.

I felt weak with relief that Charlie wasn't home yet.

"Let me deal with this," I suggested. Edythe's black glare made me anxious.

To my surprise, she agreed. "That's probably best. Be careful, though. The child has no idea."

I bridled a little at the word child. "Julie is not that much younger than I am," I reminded her.

Edythe looked at me then, her anger abruptly fading. "Oh, I know," she assured me with a grin.

I sighed and put my hand on the door handle.

"Get them inside," she instructed, "so I can leave. I'll be back around dusk."

"Do you want my truck?" I offered, meanwhile wondering how I would explain its absence to Charlie.

She rolled her eyes. "I could walk home faster than this truck moves."

"You don't have to leave," I said wistfully.

Edythe smiled at my glum expression. "Actually, I do. After you get rid of them" - she threw a dark glance in the Blacks' direction - "you still have to prepare Charlie to meet your new girlfriend." She grinned widely, showing all of her teeth.

I groaned. "Thanks a lot."

She smiled the crooked smile that I loved. "I'll be back soon," she promised. Her eyes flickered back to the porch, and then she leaned in to swiftly kiss me just under the edge of my jaw. My heart lurched frantically, and I, too, glanced toward the porch. Bonnie's face was no longer impassive, and her hands clutched at the armrests of her chair.

"Soon," I stressed as I opened the door and stepped out into the rain.

I could feel her eyes on my back as I half-ran through the light sprinkle toward the porch.

"Hey, Bonnie. Hi, Julie." I greeted them as cheerfully as I could manage. "Charlie's gone for the day - I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Not long," Bonnie said in a subdued tone. Her black eyes were piercing. "I just wanted to bring this up." She indicated a brown paper sack resting in her lap.

"Thanks," I said, though I had no idea what it could be. "Why don't you come in for a minute and dry off?"

I pretended to be oblivious to her intense scrutiny as I unlocked the door, and waved them in ahead of me.

"Here, let me take that," I offered, turning to shut the door. I allowed myself one last glance at Edythe. She was waiting, perfectly still, her eyes solemn.

"You'll want to put it in the fridge," Bonnie noted as she handed me the package. "It's some of Harry Clearwater's homemade fish fry - Charlie's favorite. The fridge keeps it drier." She shrugged.

"Thanks," I repeated, but with feeling this time. "I was running out of new ways to fix fish, and he's bound to bring home more tonight."

"Fishing again?" Bonnie asked with a subtle gleam in her eye. "Down at the usual spot? Maybe I'll run by and see him."

"No," I quickly lied, my face going hard. "He was headed someplace new... but I have no idea where."

Bonnie took in my changed expression, and it made her thoughtful.

"Jules," she said, still appraising me. "Why don't you go get that new picture of Rebecca out of the car? I'll leave that for Charlie, too."

"Where is it?" Julie asked, her voice morose. I glanced at her, but she was staring at the floor, her eyebrows pulling together.

"I think I saw it in the trunk," Bonnie said. "You may have to dig for it."

Julie stalked back out into the rain.

Bonnie and I faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed to the kitchen. I could hear her wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as she followed.

I shoved the bag onto the crowded top shelf of the fridge, and spun around to confront Bonnie. Her deeply lined face was unreadable.

"Charlie won't be back for a long time." My voice was almost rude.

Bonnie nodded in agreement, but said nothing.

"Thanks again for the fish fry," I hinted.

She continued nodding. I sighed and folded my arms across my chest.

She seemed to sense that I had given up on small talk. "Bella," she said, and then she hesitated.

I waited.

"Bella," she said again, "Charlie is one of my best friends."

"Yes."

She spoke each word carefully in her rumbling voice. "I noticed you've been spending time with one of the Cullens."

"Yes," I repeated curtly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe it's none of my business, but I don't think that is such a good idea."

"You're right," I agreed. "It is none of your business."

She raised her graying eyebrows at my tone. "You probably don't know this, but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation."

"Actually, I did know that," I informed her in a hard voice. This surprised her. "But that reputation couldn't be deserved, could it? Because the Cullens never set foot on the reservation, do they?" I could see that my less than subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound and protected her tribe pulled her up short.

"That's true," she acceded, her eyes guarded. "You seem... well informed about the Cullens. More informed than I expected."

I stared her down. "Maybe even better informed than you are."

She pursed her lips as she considered that. "Maybe." she allowed, but her eyes were shrewd. "Is Charlie as well informed?"

Bonnie had found the weak chink in my armor.

"Charlie likes the Cullens a lot," I hedged. She clearly understood my evasion. Her expression was unhappy, but unsurprised.

"It's not my business," she said. "But it may be Charlie's."

"Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it's Charlie's business, right?"

I wondered if she even understood my confused question as I struggled not to say anything compromising. But she seemed to. She thought about it while the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.

"Yes," she finally surrendered. "I guess that's your business, too."

I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Bonnie."

"Just think about what you're doing, Bella," she urged.

"Okay," I agreed quickly.

She frowned. "What I meant to say was, don't do what you're doing."

I looked into her eyes, filled with nothing but concern for me, and there was nothing I could say.

Just then the front door banged loudly, and I jumped at the sound.

"There's no picture anywhere in that car." Julie's complaining voice reached us before she did. The shoulders of her shirt were stained with the rain and her long hair was dripping when she rounded the corner.

"Hmm," Bonnie grunted, suddenly detached, spinning her chair around to face her daughter. "I guess I left it at home."

Julie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Great."

"Well, Bella, tell Charlie" - Bonnie paused before continuing - "that we stopped by, I mean."

"I will," I muttered.

Julie was surprised. "Are we leaving already?"

"Charlie's gonna be out late," Bonnie explained as she rolled herself past Julie.

"Oh." Julie looked disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, then, Bella."

"Sure," I agreed.

"Take care," Bonnie warned me. I didn't answer.

Julie helped her mother out the door. I waved briefly, glancing swiftly toward my now-empty truck, and then shut the door before they were gone.

I stood in the hallway for a minute, listening to the sound of their car as it backed out and drove away. I stayed where I was, waiting for the irritation and anxiety to subside. When the tension eventually faded a bit, I headed upstairs to change out of my dressy clothes.

I tried on a couple of different tops, not sure what to expect tonight. As I concentrated on what was coming, what had just passed became insignificant. Now that I was removed from Jamie's and Edythe's influence, I began to make up for not being terrified before. I gave up quickly on choosing an outfit - throwing on an old flannel shirt and jeans - knowing I would be in my raincoat all night anyway.

The phone rang and I sprinted downstairs to get it. There was only one voice I wanted to hear; anything else would be a disappointment. But I knew that if she wanted to talk to me, Edythe would probably just materialize in my room.

"Hello?" I asked, breathless.

"Bella? It's me," Jessica said.

"Oh, hey, Jess." I scrambled for a moment to come back down to reality. It felt like months rather than days since I'd spoken to Jess. "How was the dance?"

"It was so much fun!" Jessica gushed. Needing no more invitation than that, she launched into a minute-by-minute account of the previous night. I mmm'd and ahh'd at the right places, but it wasn't easy to concentrate. Jessica, Mike, the dance, the school - they all seemed strangely irrelevant at the moment. My eyes kept flashing to the window, trying to judge the degree of light behind the heavy clouds.

"Did you hear what I said, Bella?" Jess asked, irritated.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, Mike kissed me! Can you believe it?"

"That's wonderful, Jess," I said.

"So what did you do yesterday?" Jessica challenged, still sounding bothered by my lack of attention. Or maybe she was upset because I hadn't asked for details.

"Nothing, really. I just hung around outside to enjoy the sun."

I heard Charlie's car in the garage.

"Did you ever hear anything more from Edythe Cullen?"

The front door slammed and I could hear Charlie banging around under the stairs, putting his tackle away.

"Um." I hesitated, not sure what my story was anymore.

"Hi there, kiddo!" Charlie called as she walked into the kitchen. I waved at him.

Jess heard his voice. "Oh, your dad's there. Never mind - we'll talk tomorrow. See you in Trig."

"See ya, Jess." I hung up the phone.

"Hey, Dad," I said. He was scrubbing his hands in the sink. "Where's the fish?"

"I put it out in the freezer."

"I'll go grab a few pieces before they freeze - Bonnie dropped off some of Harry Clearwater's fish fry this afternoon." I worked to sound enthusiastic.

"She did?" Charlie's eyes lit up. "That's my favorite!"

Charlie cleaned up while I got dinner ready. It didn't take long till we were sitting at the table, eating in silence. Charlie was enjoying his food. I was wondering desperately how to fulfill my assignment, struggling to think of a way to broach the subject.

"What did you do with yourself today?" he asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

"Well, this afternoon I just hung out around the house..." Only the very recent part of this afternoon, actually. I tried to keep my voice upbeat, but my stomach was hollow. "And this morning I was over at the Cullens'."

Charlie dropped his fork.

"Dr. Cullen's place?" he asked in astonishment.

I pretended not to notice his reaction. "Yeah."

"What were you doing there?" He hadn't picked his fork back up.

"Well, I sort of have a date with Edythe Cullen tonight, and she wanted to introduce me to her parents... Dad?"

It appeared that Charlie was having an aneurysm.

"Dad, are you all right?"

"You are going out with Edythe Cullen?" he thundered.

Uh-oh. "I thought you liked the Cullens."

"She's too old for you," he ranted.

"We're both juniors," I corrected, though he was more right than he dreamed.

"Wait..." He paused. "Which one is Edythe?"

"Edythe is the youngest, the one with the reddish brown hair." The beautiful one, the godlike one...

"Oh, well, that's" - he struggled - "better, I guess. I don't like the look of that big one. I'm sure she's a nice girl and all, but she looks too... mature for you. Is this Edin your girlfriend?"

"It's Edythe, Dad."

"Is she?"

"Sort of, I guess."

"You said last night that you weren't interested in any of the boys in town." But Charlie picked up his fork again, so I could see the worst was over.

“Edythe isn’t a boy, Dad."

He gave me a disparaging look as he chewed.

"And, anyways," I continued, "it's kind of at an early stage, you know. Don't embarrass me with all the girlfriend talk, okay?"

"When is she coming over?"

"She'll be here in a few minutes."

"Where is she taking you?"

I groaned loudly. "I hope you're getting the Spanish Inquisition out of your system now. We're going to play baseball with her family."

His face puckered, and then he finally chuckled. "You're playing baseball?"

"Well, I'll probably watch most of the time."

"You must really like this one," he observed suspiciously.

I sighed and rolled my eyes for his benefit.

I heard the roar of an engine pull up in front of the house. I jumped up and started cleaning my dishes.

"Leave the dishes, I can do them tonight. You baby me too much."

The doorbell rang, and Charlie stalked off to answer it. I was half a step behind him.

I hadn't realized how hard it was pouring outside. Edythe stood in the halo of the porch light, looking like a model in an advertisement for raincoats.

"Come on in, Edythe."

I breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie got her name right.

"Thanks, Chief Swan," Edythe said in a respectful voice.

"Go ahead and call me Charlie. Here, I'll take your jacket."

"Thanks, sir."

"Have a seat there, Edythe."

I grimaced.

Edythe sat down fluidly in the only chair, forcing me to sit next to Chief Swan on the sofa. I quickly shot her a dirty look. She winked behind Charlie's back.

"So I hear you're getting my girl to watch baseball." Only in Washington would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearing at all on the playing of outdoor sports.

"That's the plan," Edythe said cheerfully. She didn't look surprised that I'd told my father the truth. She might have been listening, though.

"Well, more power to you, I guess."

Charlie laughed, and Edythe joined in.

"Okay." I stood up. "Enough humor at my expense. Let's go." I walked back to the hall and pulled on my jacket. They followed.

"Not too late, Bell."

"Don't worry, Charlie, I'll have her home early," Edythe promised.

"You take care of my girl, all right?"

I groaned, but they ignored me.

"She'll be safe with me, I promise, sir."

Charlie couldn't doubt Edythe's sincerity, it rang in every word.

I stalked out. They both laughed, and Edythe followed me.

I stopped dead on the porch. There, behind my truck, was a monster Jeep. Its tires were higher than my waist. There were metal guards over the headlights and tail-lights, and four large spotlights attached to the crash bar. The hardtop was shiny red.

Charlie let out a low whistle.

"Wear your seat belts," he choked out.

Edythe followed me around to my side and opened the door. I gauged the distance to the seat and prepared to jump for it. She sighed, and then lifted me in with one hand. I hoped Charlie didn't notice.

As she went around to the driver's side, at a normal, human pace, I tried to put on my seat belt. But there were too many buckles.

"What's all this?" I asked when she opened the door.

"It's an off-roading harness."

"Uh-oh."

I tried to find the right places for all the buckles to fit, but it wasn't going too quickly. She sighed again and reached over to help me. I was glad that the rain was too heavy to see Charlie clearly on the porch. That meant she couldn't see how Edythe's hands lingered at my neck, brushed along my collarbones. I gave up trying to help her and focused on not hyperventilating.

Edythe turned the key and the engine roared to life. We pulled away from the house.

"This is a... um... big Jeep you have."

"It's Eleanor's. I didn't think you'd want to run the whole way."

"Where do you keep this thing?"

"We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage."

"Aren't you going to put on your seat belt?"

She threw me a disbelieving look.

Then something sunk in.

"Run the whole way? As in, we're still going to run part of the way?" My voice edged up a few octaves.

She grinned tightly. "You're not going to run."

"I'm going to be sick in front of your family."

"Keep your eyes closed, you'll be fine."

I bit my lip, fighting the panic.

Edythe leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and then groaned softly. I looked at her, puzzled.

"You smell so good in the rain," she explained.

"In a good way, or in a bad way?" I asked cautiously.

She sighed. "Both, always both."

I reached over and took her hand. “I missed you.”

She laughed--it was a trilling sound, not quite human. “I miss you, too. Isn’t that strange?”

“Why strange?”

“You’d think I’d’ve learned more patience over the last hundred years. And yet here I am, finding it difficult to pass an afternoon without you.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.”

We settled into a comfortable silence then. I don't know how she found her way in the gloom and downpour, but she somehow found a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. She seemed to enjoy the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.

And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every second, the sky brighter through the clouds.

"Sorry, Bella, we have to go on foot from here."

"You know what? I'll just wait here."

"What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning."

"I haven't forgotten the last time yet." Could it have been only yesterday?

She was around to my side of the car in a blur. She started unbuckling me.

"I'll get those, you go on ahead," I protested.

"Hmmm..." she mused as she quickly finished. "It seems I'm going to have to tamper with your memory."

Before I could react, she pulled me from the Jeep and set my feet on the ground. It was barely misting now; Alex was going to be right.

"Tamper with my memory?" I asked nervously.

"Something like that." She was watching me intently, carefully, but there was humor deep in her eyes. She placed her hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. She leaned in even closer, her face inches from mine. I had no room to escape.

"Now," she breathed, and just her smell disturbed my thought processes, "what exactly are you worrying about?"

"Well, um, hitting a tree -" I gulped "- and dying. And then getting sick."

She fought back a smile. Then she bent her head down and touched her cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat.

"Are you still worried now?" she murmured against my skin.

"Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."

Her nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. Her cold breath tickled my skin.

"And now?" Her lips whispered against my jaw.

"Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."

She lifted her face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I would hit a tree, do you?"

"No, but I might." The determination was slipping out of my voice. Edythe smelled an easy victory.

She kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth.

"Would I let a tree hurt you?" Her lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip.

"No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brilliant defense, but I couldn't quite call it back.

"You see," she said, her lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be afraid of, is there?"

"No," I sighed, giving up.

Then she took my face in her hands almost roughly, and kissed me in earnest, her unyielding lips moving against mine.

There really was no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to twine tightly around her neck, and I was suddenly welded to her stone figure. I sighed, and my lips parted.

She staggered back, breaking my grip effortlessly.

“I’m sorry!” I gasped, out of breath with the unexpected force of my passion.

"Damn it, Bella!" she said, gasping as well. "You'll be the death of me, I swear you will."

I leaned over, bracing my hands against my knees for support.

"You're indestructible," I mumbled, trying to catch my breath.

"I might have believed that before I met you. Now let's get out of here before I do something really stupid," she growled.

She tossed me up onto her back as she had before, and I could see the extra effort it took for her to be as gentle as she was. I locked my legs around her waist and secured my arms in a choke hold around her neck.

"Don't forget to close your eyes," she warned severely.

I quickly tucked my face into her shoulder blade, under my own arm, and squeezed my eyes shut.

And I could hardly tell we were moving. I could feel her gliding along beneath me, but she could have been strolling down the sidewalk, the movement was so smooth. I was tempted to peek, just to see if she was really flying through the forest like before, but I resisted. It wasn't worth that awful dizziness. I contented myself with listening to her breath come and go evenly.

I wasn't quite sure we had stopped until she reached back and touched my hair.

"It's over, Bella."

I dared to open my eyes, and, sure enough, we were at a standstill. I stiffly unlocked my stranglehold on her body and slipped to the ground, landing on my backside.

"Oh!" I huffed as I hit the wet ground.

She stared at me incredulously, evidently not sure whether she was still too mad to find me funny. But my bewildered expression must have pushed her over the edge, and she broke into a peals of laughter.

I picked myself up, ignoring her as I brushed the mud and bracken off the back of my jacket. That only made her laugh harder. I sighed.

“You know, it would probably be more humane for you to just dump me now,” I said glumly. “it’s not going to get any easier for me over time.”

Edythe took a few deep breaths, calming her peals of laughter.

I grimaced and started walking in the most path-like direction I could see, but before I could get two steps, I felt her arm around my waist.

"Where are you going, Bella?"

"To watch a baseball game.  _ Your _ baseball game."

"You're going the wrong way."

I pivoted. “Okay.”

She took my hand and we started walking slowly toward a dark patch of forest.

“I’m sorry I laughed.”

“I probably would have laughed too,” I said dryly. “I’m sure I was hilarious.”

“No,” she protested, “I was just a little...agitated. I needed the catharsis.”

We walked silently for a few seconds.

“At least tell me it worked--the mind-over-matter experiment,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t get sick.”

“Good, but…?”

“I wasn’t thinking about...when we were in the car. I was thinking about after.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I know I already apologized, but...Edythe, I’m sorry. I’ll get better, I will--”

“Bella, stop. Please, you make me feel even more guilty when you apologize.”

I looked over at her. “Why do you feel guilty? I know it’s not because you laughed at me. You refuse to feel guilty for that.”

She almost smiled at that, but there was a tenseness to her face. “Why should I feel guilty indeed?” She laughed once, sourly.

The darkness in her eyes made me feel anxious. There was pain there, and I didn’t know how to make it better. I put my hand against her cheek. “Edythe, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

She closed her eyes. “I just can’t seem to stop putting you in danger, Bella. I  _ think _ I’m in control of myself, but then it gets so close--I don’t even know how not to be  _ this _ anymore.” Eyes still closed, she gestured to herself. “My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to--”

I moved my hand to cover her mouth. “Stop.”

Her eyes opened. She peeled my hand off her mouth and put it back in her own.

"I love you," she said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."

It was the first time she'd said she loved me - in so many words. She might not realize it, but I certainly did. Like she’d said this morning, it was different, hearing the words out loud.

“I love  _ you, _ ” I told her when I’d caught my breath. “I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.”

She sighed lightly. "Now, try to behave yourself," she said, and she leaned over to softly brush her lips against mine.

I held very still. Then I sighed.

“Baseball?” she asked.

“Baseball,” I agreed, much more confidently than I felt.

She smiled wistfully and led me a few feet through the tall, wet ferns and draping moss, around a massive hemlock tree, and suddenly we were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball stadium.

I could see the others all there; Esme, Eleanor, and Rosalie, sitting on a bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to us, maybe a hundred yards away. Much farther out I could see Jamie and Alex, at least a quarter of a mile apart, appearing to throw something back and forth, but I never saw any ball. It looked like Carine was marking bases, but could they really be that far apart?

When we came into view, the three on the rocks rose.

Esme started toward us. Eleanor followed after a long look at Rosalie's back; Rosalie had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field without a glance in our direction. My stomach quivered uneasily in response.

"Was that you we heard, Edythe?" Esme asked as she approached.

"It sounded like a bear choking," Eleanor added.

I smiled hesitantly at Esme. "That was her."

"Bella was being unintentionally funny," Edythe explained, quickly settling the score.

Alex had left their position and was running, impossibly light, toward us. They hurtled to a fluid stop at our feet. "It's time," Alex announced.

As soon as they spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond us, and then crashed westward toward town.

"Eerie, isn't it?" Eleanor said with easy familiarity, winking at me.

"Let's go." Alex reached for Eleanor's hand and they darted toward the oversized field, their movement more fluid and much faster than any human run. It was closer to animals--deer, or leopards, though the quality of the run was very different for both Alex and Eleanor.

"Are you ready for some ball?" Edythe asked, her eyes bright.

I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. "Go team!"

She laughed and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two. Her run was more aggressive, something like a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and she quickly overtook them. The grace and power took my breath away.

"Shall we go down?" Esme asked in her soft, melodic voice, and I realized I was staring openmouthed after Edythe. I quickly reassembled my expression and nodded. Esme kept a few feet between us, and I wondered if she was still being careful not to frighten me. She matched her stride to mine without seeming impatient at the pace.

"You don't play with them?" I asked shyly.

"No, I prefer to referee - I like keeping them honest," she explained.

"Do they like to cheat, then?"

"Oh yes - you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves."

"You sound like my mom," I laughed, surprised.

She laughed, too. "Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I never could get over my mothering instincts - did Edythe tell you I had lost a child?"

"No," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.

"Yes, my first and only baby. She died just a few days after she was born, the poor tiny thing," she sighed. "It broke my heart - that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know," she added matter-of-factly.

"Edythe just said you f-fell," I stammered.

"Always so polite." Esme smiled. "Edythe was the first of my new children. My second daughter. I've always thought of her that way, even though she's older than I, in one way at least." She smiled at me warmly. "That's why I'm so happy that she's found you, dear." The endearment sounded very natural on her lips. "She's been the odd one out for far too long; it's hurt me to see her alone."

"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm... all wrong for her?"

"No." She was thoughtful. "You're what she wants. It will work out, somehow," she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal of thunder began.

Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edythe was far out in left field, Carine stood between the first and second bases, and Alex held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.

Eleanor was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air. I waited for her to approach home plate, but then I realized, as she took her stance, that she was already there - farther from the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jamie stood several feet behind her, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.

"All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edythe would hear, as far out as she was. "Batter up."

Alex stood straight, deceptively motionless. Their style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. They held the ball in both hands at the waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, their right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jamie's hand.

"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.

"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.

Jamie hurled the ball back to Alex's waiting hand. Alex permitted themself a brief grin. And then their hand spun out again.

This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountains - I immediately understood the necessity of the thunderstorm.

The ball shot like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest.

"Home run," I murmured.

"Wait," Esme cautioned, listening intently, one hand raised. Eleanor was a blur around the bases, Carine shadowing her. I realized Edythe was missing.

"Out!" Esme cried in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edythe sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in her upraised hand, her wide grin visible even to me.

"Eleanor hits the hardest," Esme explained, "but Edythe runs the fastest."

The inning continued before my incredulous eyes. It was impossible to keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their bodies raced around the field.

I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when Jamie, trying to avoid Edythe's infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Carine. Carine ran into the ball, and then raced Jamie to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. I jumped up in concern, but they were somehow unscathed.

"Safe," Esme called in a calm voice.

Eleanor's team was up by one - Rosalie managed to flit around the bases after tagging up on one of Eleanor's long flies - when Edythe caught the third out. She sprinted to my side, sparkling with excitement.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"One thing's for sure, I'll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again."

"And it sounds like you did so much of that before," she laughed.

"I am a little disappointed," I teased.

"Why?" she asked, puzzled.

"Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn't do better than everyone else on the planet."

She flashed her special dimpled smile, leaving me breathless.

"I'm up," she said, heading for the plate.

Edythe played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of Rosalie's always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like lightning before Eleanor could get the ball back in play. Carine knocked one so far out of the field - with a boom that hurt my ears - that she and Edythe both made it in. Alex slapped them high fives.

The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each other like any street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Alex had predicted.

Carine was up to bat, Edythe catching, when Alex suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Edythe, as usual, and I saw her head snap up to look at Alex. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. Edythe was at my side before the others could ask Alex what was wrong.

"Alex?" Esme's voice was tense.

"I didn't see - I couldn't tell," she whispered.

All the others were gathered by this time.

"What is it, Alex?" Carine asked with the calm voice of authority.

"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before," Alex murmured.

Jamie leaned over Alex, their posture protective. "What changed?" they asked.

"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," she said, contrite, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.

Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.

"How soon?" Carine asked Alex.

A look of intense concentration crossed their face.

"Less than five minutes. They're running - they want to play." They scowled.

"Can you make it?" Carine asked Edythe, her eyes flicking toward me again.

"No, not carrying -" She cut short. "Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting."

"How many?" Eleanor asked Alex.

"Three," they answered tersely.

"Three!" Eleanor scoffed. "Let them come." The steel bands of muscle flexed along her massive arms.

For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carine deliberated. Only Eleanor seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at Carine's face with anxious eyes.

"Let's just continue the game," Carine finally decided. Her voice was cool and level. "Alex said they were simply curious."

All this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a few seconds. I had listened carefully and caught most of it, though I couldn't hear what Esme now asked Edythe with a silent vibration of her lips. I only saw the slight shake of her head and the look of relief on her face.

"You catch, Esme," she said. "I'll call it now." And she planted herself in front of me.

The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with their sharp eyes. Alex and Esme seemed to orient themselves around where I stood.

"Take your hair down," Edythe said in a low, even voice.

I obediently slid the rubber band out of my hair and shook it out around me.

I stated the obvious. "The others are coming now."

"Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please." I could hear the stress in her voice, though she tried to hide it.

"That won't help," Alex said softly. "I could smell her across the field."

"I know." A hint of frustration colored Edythe’s tone.

Carine stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.

"What did Esme ask you?" I whispered.

Edythe hesitated for a second before she answered. "Whether they were thirsty," she muttered unwillingly.

The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Eleanor, Rosalie, and Jamie hovered in the infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was aware of Rosalie's eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry.

Edythe paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind ranging the forest.

"I'm sorry, Bella," she muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."

I heard her breath stop, and her eyes zeroed in on right field. She took a half step, angling herself between me and what was coming.

Carine, Eleanor, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.


	19. The Hunt

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart. The first one into the clearing, a man, fell back immediately, allowing another, a woman, to take the front, and orienting himself around that tall, dark-haired woman in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was another woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red.

They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edythe's family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.

As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. All of their hair was cropped pretty short, but the ends had picked up leaf bits and other debris from the woods.

Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carine, who, flanked by Eleanor and Jamie, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.

The woman in front was easily the most beautiful, her skin olive-toned beneath the typical pallor, her hair a glossy black. She was of a medium build and hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Eleanor's brawn. She smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.

The other woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the Cullens, and the loose grouping around me, her bright hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features both nondescript. Her eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant.

All of their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep, vivid red that was disturbing and sinister.

The dark-haired woman, still smiling, stepped toward Carine.

"We thought we heard a game," she said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of a French accent. "I'm Lauren, these are Victoria and James." She gestured to the vampires beside her.

"I'm Carine. This is my family, Eleanor and Jamie, Rosalie, Esme and Alex, Edythe and Bella." She pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when she said my name.

"Do you have room for a few more players?" Lauren asked sociably.

Carine matched Lauren's friendly tone. "Actually, we were just finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?"

"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."

"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves."

The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I guessed that Jamie was using their peculiar gift to control the situation.

"What's your hunting range?" Lauren casually inquired.

Carine ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. "The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali."

Lauren rocked back on her heels slightly.

"Permanent? How do you manage that?" There was honest curiosity in her voice.

"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?" Carine invited. "It's a rather long story."

James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word "home," but Lauren controlled her expression better.

"That sounds very interesting, and welcome." Her smile was genial. "We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up in a while." Her eyes moved appreciatively over Carine's refined appearance, and I noticed Esme’s face darken.

"Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand," Carine explained.

"Of course." Lauren nodded. "We certainly won't encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," she laughed. A shiver ran up my spine.

"We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us - Eleanor and Alex, you can go with Edythe and Bella to get the Jeep," she casually added.

Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carine was speaking. My hair ruffled with the light breeze, Edythe stiffened, and the male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing me, his nostrils flaring.

A swift rigidity fell on all of them as James lurched one step forward into a crouch. Edythe bared her teeth, crouching in defense, a feral snarl ripping from her throat.

It was nothing like the playful sounds I'd heard from him this morning; it was the single most menacing thing I had ever heard, and chills ran from the crown of my head to the back of my heels.

"What's this?" Lauren exclaimed in open surprise. Neither James nor Edythe relaxed their aggressive poses. James feinted slightly to the side, and Edythe shifted in response.

"She's with us." Carine's firm rebuff was directed toward James. Lauren seemed to catch my scent less powerfully than James, but awareness now dawned on her face.

"You brought a snack?" she asked, her expression incredulous asshetook an involuntary step forward.

Edythe snarled even more ferociously, harshly, her lip curling high above her glistening, bared teeth. Lauren stepped back again.

"I said she's with us," Carine corrected in a hard voice.

"But she's human," Lauren protested. The words were not at all aggressive, merely astounded.

"Yes." Eleanor was very much in evidence at Carine's side, her eyes on James. James slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never left me and his nostrils still flared wide. Edythe stayed tensed like a lion in front of me.

When Lauren spoke, her tone was soothing - trying to defuse the sudden hostility. "It appears we have a lot to learn about each other."

"Indeed." Carine's voice was still cool.

"But we'd like to accept your invitation." Her eyes flicked toward me and back to Carine. "And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We won't hunt in your range, as I said."

James glanced in disbelief and aggravation at Lauren and exchanged another brief look with Victoria, whose eyes still flickered edgily from face to face.

Carine measured Lauren's open expression for a moment before she spoke. "We'll show you the way. Jamie, Rosalie, Esme?" she called. They gathered together, blocking me from view as they converged. Alex was instantly at my side, and Eleanor fell back slowly, her eyes still locked on James as she backed toward us.

"Let's go, Bella." Edythe's voice was low and bleak.

This whole time I'd been rooted in place, terrified into absolute immobility. Edythe had to grip my elbow and pull sharply to break my trance. Alex and Eleanor were close behind us, hiding me. I stumbled alongside Edythe, still stunned with fear. I couldn't hear if the main group had left yet. Edythe's impatience was almost tangible as we moved at human speed to the forest edge.

Once we were into the trees, Edythe slung me over her back without breaking stride. I gripped as tightly as possible as she took off, the others close on her heels. I kept my head down, but my eyes, wide with fright, wouldn't close. They plunged through the now-black forest like wraiths. The sense of exhilaration that usually seemed to possess Edythe as she ran was completely absent, replaced by a fury that consumed her and drove him still faster. Even with me on her back, the others trailed behind.

We reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edythe barely slowed as she flung me in the backseat.

"Strap her in," she ordered Eleanor, who slid in beside me.

Alex was already in the front seat, and Edythe was starting the engine. It roared to life and we swerved backward, spinning around to face the winding road.

Edythe was growling something too fast for me to understand, but it sounded a lot like a string of profanities.

The jolting trip was much worse this time, and the darkness only made it more frightening. Eleanor and Alex both glared out the side windows.

We hit the main road, and though our speed increased, I could see much better where we were going. And we were headed south, away from Forks.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

No one answered. No one even looked at me.

"Dammit, Edythe! Where are you taking me?"

"We have to get you away from here - far away - now." She didn't look back, her eyes on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour.

"Turn around! You have to take me home!" I shouted. I struggled with the stupid harness, tearing at the straps.

"Eleanor," Edythe said grimly.

And Eleanor secured my hands in her steely grasp.

"No! Edythe! No, you can't do this."

"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."

"I won't! You have to take me back - Charlie will call the FBI! They'll be all over your family - Carine and Esme! They'll have to leave, to hide forever!"

"Calm down, Bella." Her voice was cold. "We've been there before."

"Not over me, you don't! You're not ruining everything over me!" I struggled violently, with total futility.

Alex spoke for the first time. "Edythe, pull over."

She flashed Alex a hard look, and then sped up.

"Edythe, let's just talk this through."

"You don't understand," she roared in frustration. I'd never heard her voice so loud; it was deafening in the confines of the Jeep. The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen. "He's a tracker, Alex, did you see that? He's a tracker!"

I felt Eleanor stiffen next to me, and I wondered ather reaction to the word. It meant something more to the three of them than it did to me; I wanted to understand, but there was no opening for me to ask.

"Pull over, Edythe." Alex's tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of authority in it I'd never heard before.

The speedometer inched passed one-twenty.

"Do it, Edythe."

"Listen to me, Alex. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession - and he wants Bella, Alex - her, specifically. He begins the hunt tonight."

"He doesn't know where -"

Edythe interrupted them. "How long do you think it will take him to cross her scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Lauren's mouth."

I gasped, knowing where my scent would lead. "Charlie! You can't leave him there! You can't leave him!" I thrashed against the harness.

"She's right," Alex said.

The car slowed slightly.

"Let's just look at our options for a minute," Alex coaxed.

The car slowed again, more noticeably, and then suddenly we screeched to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I flew against the harness, and then slammed back into the seat.

"There are no options," Edythe hissed.

"I'm not leaving Charlie!" I yelled.

She ignored me completely.

"We have to take her back," Eleanor finally spoke.

"No." Edythe was absolute.

"He's no match for us, Edythe. He won't be able to touch her."

"He'll wait."

Eleanor smiled. "I can wait, too."

"You didn't see - you don't understand. Once he commits to a hunt, he's unshakable. We'd have to kill him."

Eleanor didn't seem upset by the idea. "That's an option."

"And the redhead. She's with him. They’re all together. The leader won’t do anything to break them up.” 

"There are enough of us."

"There's another option," Alex said quietly.

Edythe turned on them in fury, her voice a blistering snarl. "There - is - no - other - option!"

Eleanor and I both stared at Edythe in shock, but Alex seemed unsurprised. The silence lasted for a long minute as Edythe and Alex stared each other down.

I broke it. "Does anyone want to hear my plan?"

"No," Edythe growled. Alex glared at her, finally provoked.

"Listen," I pleaded. "You take me back."

"No," she interrupted.

I glared at him and continued. "You take me back. I tell my dad I want to go home to Phoenix. I pack my bags. We wait till this tracker is watching, and then we run. He'll follow us and leave Charlie alone. Charlie won't call the FBI on your family. Then you can take me any damned place you want."

They stared at me, stunned.

"It's not a bad idea, really." Eleanor was so surprised, it  was an insult.

"It might work - and we simply can't leave her father unprotected. You know that," Alex said.

Everyone looked at Edythe.

"It's too dangerous - I don't want him within a hundred miles of Bella."

Eleanor was supremely confident. "Edythe, he's not getting through us."

Alex thought for a minute. "I don't see him attacking. He'll try to wait for us to leave her alone."

"It won't take long for him to realize that's not going to happen."

"I demand that you take me home." I tried to sound firm.

Edythe pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please," I said in a much smaller voice.

She didn't look up. When she spoke, her voice sounded worn.

"You're leaving tonight, whether the tracker sees or not. You tell Charlie that you can't stand another minute in Forks. Tell him whatever story works. Pack the first things your hands touch, and then get in your truck. I don't care what he says to you. You have fifteen minutes. Do you hear me? Fifteen minutes from the time you cross the doorstep."

The Jeep rumbled to life, and she spun us around, the tires squealing. The needle on the speedometer started to race up the dial.

"Eleanor?" I asked, looking pointedly at my hands.

"Oh, sorry." She let me loose.

A few minutes passed in silence, other than the roar of the engine. Then Edythe spoke again.

"This is how it's going to happen. When we get to the house, if the tracker is not there, I will walk her to the door. Then she has fifteen minutes." She glared at me in the rearview mirror. "Eleanor, you take the outside of the house. Alex, you get the truck. I'll be inside as long as she is. After she's out, you two can take the Jeep home and tell Carine."

"No way," Eleanor broke in. "I'm with you."

"Think it through, Eleanor. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"Until we know how far this is going to go, I'm with you."

Edythe sighed. "If the tracker is there," she continued grimly, "we keep driving."

"We're going to make it there before him," Alex said confidently.

Edythe seemed to accept that. Whatever her problem with Alex was, she didn't doubt them now.

"What are we going to do with the Jeep?" Alex asked.

Edythe’s voice had a hard edge. "You're driving it home."

"No, I'm not," they said calmly.

The unintelligible stream of profanities started again.

"We can't all fit in my truck," I whispered.

Edythe didn't appear to hear me.

"I think you should let me go alone," I said even more quietly.

She heard that.

"Bella, please just do this my way, just this once," she said between clenched teeth.

"Listen, Charlie's not an imbecile," I protested. "If you're not in town tomorrow, he's going to get suspicious."

"That's irrelevant. We'll make sure he's safe, and that's all that matters."

"Then what about this tracker? He saw the way you acted tonight. He's going to think you're with me, wherever you are."

Eleanor looked at me, insultingly surprised again. "Edythe, listen to her," she urged. "I think she's right."

"Yes, she is," Alex agreed.

"I can't do that." Edythe's voice was icy.

"Eleanor should stay, too," I continued. "He definitely got an eyeful of Eleanor."

"What?" Eleanor turned on me.

"You'll get a better crack at him if you stay," Alex agreed.

Edythe stared at Alex incredulously. "You think I should let her go alone?"

"Of course not," Alex said. "Jamie and I will take her."

"I can't do that," Edythe repeated, but this time there was a trace of defeat in her voice. The logic was working.

I tried to be persuasive. "Hang out here for a week -" I saw her expression in the mirror and amended "- a few days. Let Charlie see you haven't kidnapped me, and lead this James on a wild-goose chase. Make sure he's completely off my trail. Then come and meet me. Take a roundabout route, of course, and then Jamie and Alex can go home."

I could see him beginning to consider it.

"Meet you where?"

"Phoenix." Of course.

"No. He'll hear that's where you're going," she said impatiently.

"And you'll make it look like that's a ruse, obviously. He'll know that we'll know that he's listening. He'll never believe I'm actually going where I say I am going."

"She's diabolical," Eleanor chuckled.

"And if that doesn't work?"

"There are several million people in Phoenix," I informed Edythe.

"It's not that hard to find a phone book."

"I won't go home."

"Oh?" she inquired, a dangerous note in her voice.

"I'm quite old enough to get my own place."

"Edythe, we'll be with her," Alex reminded her.

"What are you going to do in Phoenix?" she asked Alex scathingly.

"Stay indoors."

"I kind of like it." Eleanor was thinking about cornering James, no doubt.

"Shut up, Eleanor."

"Look, if we try to take him down while she's still around, there's a much better chance that someone will get hurt - she'll get hurt, or you will, trying to protect her. Now, if we get him alone..." Eleanor trailed off with a slow smile. I was right.

The Jeep was crawling slowly along now as we drove into town. Despite my brave talk, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up. I thought about Charlie, alone in the house, and tried to be courageous.

"Bella." Edythe's voice was very soft. Alex and Eleanor looked out their windows. "If you let anything happen to yourself- anything at all - I'm holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," I gulped.

She turned to Alex.

"Can Jamie handle this?"

"Give them some credit, Edythe. They’ve been doing very, very well, all things considered."

"Can you handle this?" she asked.

And quiet, unassuming Alex pulled back their lips in a horrific grimace and let loose with a guttural snarl that had me cowering against the seat in terror.

Edythe smiled at Alex. "But keep your opinions to yourself," she muttered suddenly.


	20. Goodbyes

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart. The first one into the clearing, a man, fell back immediately, allowing another, a woman, to take the front, and orienting himself around that tall, dark-haired woman in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. The third was another woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red.

They closed ranks before they continued cautiously toward Edythe's family, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind.

As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed, though, with wear, and they were barefoot. All of their hair was cropped pretty short, but the ends had picked up leaf bits and other debris from the woods.

Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carine, who, flanked by Eleanor and Jamie, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any seeming communication between them, they each straightened into a more casual, erect bearing.

The woman in front was easily the most beautiful, her skin olive-toned beneath the typical pallor, her hair a glossy black. She was of a medium build and hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Eleanor's brawn. She smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.

The other woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the Cullens, and the loose grouping around me, her bright hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features both nondescript. Her eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant.

All of their eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep, vivid red that was disturbing and sinister.

The dark-haired woman, still smiling, stepped toward Carine.

"We thought we heard a game," she said in a relaxed voice with the slightest of a French accent. "I'm Lauren, these are Victoria and James." She gestured to the vampires beside her.

"I'm Carine. This is my family, Eleanor and Jamie, Rosalie, Esme and Alex, Edythe and Bella." She pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when she said my name.

"Do you have room for a few more players?" Lauren asked sociably.

Carine matched Lauren's friendly tone. "Actually, we were just finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?"

"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."

"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves."

The tense atmosphere had slowly subsided into a casual conversation; I guessed that Jamie was using their peculiar gift to control the situation.

"What's your hunting range?" Lauren casually inquired.

Carine ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. "The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali."

Lauren rocked back on her heels slightly.

"Permanent? How do you manage that?" There was honest curiosity in her voice.

"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?" Carine invited. "It's a rather long story."

James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word "home," but Lauren controlled her expression better.

"That sounds very interesting, and welcome." Her smile was genial. "We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up in a while." Her eyes moved appreciatively over Carine's refined appearance, and I noticed Esme’s face darken.

"Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand," Carine explained.

"Of course." Lauren nodded. "We certainly won't encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," she laughed. A shiver ran up my spine.

"We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us - Eleanor and Alex, you can go with Edythe and Bella to get the Jeep," she casually added.

Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carine was speaking. My hair ruffled with the light breeze, Edythe stiffened, and the male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinizing me, his nostrils flaring.

A swift rigidity fell on all of them as James lurched one step forward into a crouch. Edythe bared her teeth, crouching in defense, a feral snarl ripping from her throat.

It was nothing like the playful sounds I'd heard from him this morning; it was the single most menacing thing I had ever heard, and chills ran from the crown of my head to the back of my heels.

"What's this?" Lauren exclaimed in open surprise. Neither James nor Edythe relaxed their aggressive poses. James feinted slightly to the side, and Edythe shifted in response.

"She's with us." Carine's firm rebuff was directed toward James. Lauren seemed to catch my scent less powerfully than James, but awareness now dawned on her face.

"You brought a snack?" she asked, her expression incredulous asshetook an involuntary step forward.

Edythe snarled even more ferociously, harshly, her lip curling high above her glistening, bared teeth. Lauren stepped back again.

"I said she's with us," Carine corrected in a hard voice.

"But she's human," Lauren protested. The words were not at all aggressive, merely astounded.

"Yes." Eleanor was very much in evidence at Carine's side, her eyes on James. James slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never left me and his nostrils still flared wide. Edythe stayed tensed like a lion in front of me.

When Lauren spoke, her tone was soothing - trying to defuse the sudden hostility. "It appears we have a lot to learn about each other."

"Indeed." Carine's voice was still cool.

"But we'd like to accept your invitation." Her eyes flicked toward me and back to Carine. "And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We won't hunt in your range, as I said."

James glanced in disbelief and aggravation at Lauren and exchanged another brief look with Victoria, whose eyes still flickered edgily from face to face.

Carine measured Lauren's open expression for a moment before she spoke. "We'll show you the way. Jamie, Rosalie, Esme?" she called. They gathered together, blocking me from view as they converged. Alex was instantly at my side, and Eleanor fell back slowly, her eyes still locked on James as she backed toward us.

"Let's go, Bella." Edythe's voice was low and bleak.

This whole time I'd been rooted in place, terrified into absolute immobility. Edythe had to grip my elbow and pull sharply to break my trance. Alex and Eleanor were close behind us, hiding me. I stumbled alongside Edythe, still stunned with fear. I couldn't hear if the main group had left yet. Edythe's impatience was almost tangible as we moved at human speed to the forest edge.

Once we were into the trees, Edythe slung me over her back without breaking stride. I gripped as tightly as possible as she took off, the others close on her heels. I kept my head down, but my eyes, wide with fright, wouldn't close. They plunged through the now-black forest like wraiths. The sense of exhilaration that usually seemed to possess Edythe as she ran was completely absent, replaced by a fury that consumed her and drove him still faster. Even with me on her back, the others trailed behind.

We reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edythe barely slowed as she flung me in the backseat.

"Strap her in," she ordered Eleanor, who slid in beside me.

Alex was already in the front seat, and Edythe was starting the engine. It roared to life and we swerved backward, spinning around to face the winding road.

Edythe was growling something too fast for me to understand, but it sounded a lot like a string of profanities.

The jolting trip was much worse this time, and the darkness only made it more frightening. Eleanor and Alex both glared out the side windows.

We hit the main road, and though our speed increased, I could see much better where we were going. And we were headed south, away from Forks.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

No one answered. No one even looked at me.

"Dammit, Edythe! Where are you taking me?"

"We have to get you away from here - far away - now." She didn't look back, her eyes on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour.

"Turn around! You have to take me home!" I shouted. I struggled with the stupid harness, tearing at the straps.

"Eleanor," Edythe said grimly.

And Eleanor secured my hands in her steely grasp.

"No! Edythe! No, you can't do this."

"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."

"I won't! You have to take me back - Charlie will call the FBI! They'll be all over your family - Carine and Esme! They'll have to leave, to hide forever!"

"Calm down, Bella." Her voice was cold. "We've been there before."

"Not over me, you don't! You're not ruining everything over me!" I struggled violently, with total futility.

Alex spoke for the first time. "Edythe, pull over."

She flashed Alex a hard look, and then sped up.

"Edythe, let's just talk this through."

"You don't understand," she roared in frustration. I'd never heard her voice so loud; it was deafening in the confines of the Jeep. The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen. "He's a tracker, Alex, did you see that? He's a tracker!"

I felt Eleanor stiffen next to me, and I wondered ather reaction to the word. It meant something more to the three of them than it did to me; I wanted to understand, but there was no opening for me to ask.

"Pull over, Edythe." Alex's tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of authority in it I'd never heard before.

The speedometer inched passed one-twenty.

"Do it, Edythe."

"Listen to me, Alex. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession - and he wants Bella, Alex - her, specifically. He begins the hunt tonight."

"He doesn't know where -"

Edythe interrupted them. "How long do you think it will take him to cross her scent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Lauren's mouth."

I gasped, knowing where my scent would lead. "Charlie! You can't leave him there! You can't leave him!" I thrashed against the harness.

"She's right," Alex said.

The car slowed slightly.

"Let's just look at our options for a minute," Alex coaxed.

The car slowed again, more noticeably, and then suddenly we screeched to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I flew against the harness, and then slammed back into the seat.

"There are no options," Edythe hissed.

"I'm not leaving Charlie!" I yelled.

She ignored me completely.

"We have to take her back," Eleanor finally spoke.

"No." Edythe was absolute.

"He's no match for us, Edythe. He won't be able to touch her."

"He'll wait."

Eleanor smiled. "I can wait, too."

"You didn't see - you don't understand. Once he commits to a hunt, he's unshakable. We'd have to kill him."

Eleanor didn't seem upset by the idea. "That's an option."

"And the redhead. She's with him. They’re all together. The leader won’t do anything to break them up.” 

"There are enough of us."

"There's another option," Alex said quietly.

Edythe turned on them in fury, her voice a blistering snarl. "There - is - no - other - option!"

Eleanor and I both stared at Edythe in shock, but Alex seemed unsurprised. The silence lasted for a long minute as Edythe and Alex stared each other down.

I broke it. "Does anyone want to hear my plan?"

"No," Edythe growled. Alex glared at her, finally provoked.

"Listen," I pleaded. "You take me back."

"No," she interrupted.

I glared at him and continued. "You take me back. I tell my dad I want to go home to Phoenix. I pack my bags. We wait till this tracker is watching, and then we run. He'll follow us and leave Charlie alone. Charlie won't call the FBI on your family. Then you can take me any damned place you want."

They stared at me, stunned.

"It's not a bad idea, really." Eleanor was so surprised, it  was an insult.

"It might work - and we simply can't leave her father unprotected. You know that," Alex said.

Everyone looked at Edythe.

"It's too dangerous - I don't want him within a hundred miles of Bella."

Eleanor was supremely confident. "Edythe, he's not getting through us."

Alex thought for a minute. "I don't see him attacking. He'll try to wait for us to leave her alone."

"It won't take long for him to realize that's not going to happen."

"I demand that you take me home." I tried to sound firm.

Edythe pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please," I said in a much smaller voice.

She didn't look up. When she spoke, her voice sounded worn.

"You're leaving tonight, whether the tracker sees or not. You tell Charlie that you can't stand another minute in Forks. Tell him whatever story works. Pack the first things your hands touch, and then get in your truck. I don't care what he says to you. You have fifteen minutes. Do you hear me? Fifteen minutes from the time you cross the doorstep."

The Jeep rumbled to life, and she spun us around, the tires squealing. The needle on the speedometer started to race up the dial.

"Eleanor?" I asked, looking pointedly at my hands.

"Oh, sorry." She let me loose.

A few minutes passed in silence, other than the roar of the engine. Then Edythe spoke again.

"This is how it's going to happen. When we get to the house, if the tracker is not there, I will walk her to the door. Then she has fifteen minutes." She glared at me in the rearview mirror. "Eleanor, you take the outside of the house. Alex, you get the truck. I'll be inside as long as she is. After she's out, you two can take the Jeep home and tell Carine."

"No way," Eleanor broke in. "I'm with you."

"Think it through, Eleanor. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"Until we know how far this is going to go, I'm with you."

Edythe sighed. "If the tracker is there," she continued grimly, "we keep driving."

"We're going to make it there before him," Alex said confidently.

Edythe seemed to accept that. Whatever her problem with Alex was, she didn't doubt them now.

"What are we going to do with the Jeep?" Alex asked.

Edythe’s voice had a hard edge. "You're driving it home."

"No, I'm not," they said calmly.

The unintelligible stream of profanities started again.

"We can't all fit in my truck," I whispered.

Edythe didn't appear to hear me.

"I think you should let me go alone," I said even more quietly.

She heard that.

"Bella, please just do this my way, just this once," she said between clenched teeth.

"Listen, Charlie's not an imbecile," I protested. "If you're not in town tomorrow, he's going to get suspicious."

"That's irrelevant. We'll make sure he's safe, and that's all that matters."

"Then what about this tracker? He saw the way you acted tonight. He's going to think you're with me, wherever you are."

Eleanor looked at me, insultingly surprised again. "Edythe, listen to her," she urged. "I think she's right."

"Yes, she is," Alex agreed.

"I can't do that." Edythe's voice was icy.

"Eleanor should stay, too," I continued. "He definitely got an eyeful of Eleanor."

"What?" Eleanor turned on me.

"You'll get a better crack at him if you stay," Alex agreed.

Edythe stared at Alex incredulously. "You think I should let her go alone?"

"Of course not," Alex said. "Jamie and I will take her."

"I can't do that," Edythe repeated, but this time there was a trace of defeat in her voice. The logic was working.

I tried to be persuasive. "Hang out here for a week -" I saw her expression in the mirror and amended "- a few days. Let Charlie see you haven't kidnapped me, and lead this James on a wild-goose chase. Make sure he's completely off my trail. Then come and meet me. Take a roundabout route, of course, and then Jamie and Alex can go home."

I could see him beginning to consider it.

"Meet you where?"

"Phoenix." Of course.

"No. He'll hear that's where you're going," she said impatiently.

"And you'll make it look like that's a ruse, obviously. He'll know that we'll know that he's listening. He'll never believe I'm actually going where I say I am going."

"She's diabolical," Eleanor chuckled.

"And if that doesn't work?"

"There are several million people in Phoenix," I informed Edythe.

"It's not that hard to find a phone book."

"I won't go home."

"Oh?" she inquired, a dangerous note in her voice.

"I'm quite old enough to get my own place."

"Edythe, we'll be with her," Alex reminded her.

"What are you going to do in Phoenix?" she asked Alex scathingly.

"Stay indoors."

"I kind of like it." Eleanor was thinking about cornering James, no doubt.

"Shut up, Eleanor."

"Look, if we try to take him down while she's still around, there's a much better chance that someone will get hurt - she'll get hurt, or you will, trying to protect her. Now, if we get him alone..." Eleanor trailed off with a slow smile. I was right.

The Jeep was crawling slowly along now as we drove into town. Despite my brave talk, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up. I thought about Charlie, alone in the house, and tried to be courageous.

"Bella." Edythe's voice was very soft. Alex and Eleanor looked out their windows. "If you let anything happen to yourself- anything at all - I'm holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," I gulped.

She turned to Alex.

"Can Jamie handle this?"

"Give them some credit, Edythe. They’ve been doing very, very well, all things considered."

"Can you handle this?" she asked.

And quiet, unassuming Alex pulled back their lips in a horrific grimace and let loose with a guttural snarl that had me cowering against the seat in terror.

Edythe smiled at Alex. "But keep your opinions to yourself," she muttered suddenly.


	21. Impatience

When I woke up I was confused. My thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in dreams and nightmares; it took me longer than it should have to realize where I was.

This room was too bland to belong anywhere but in a hotel. The bedside lamps, bolted to the tables, were a dead giveaway, as were the long drapes made from the same fabric as the bedspread, and the generic watercolor prints on the walls.

I tried to remember how I got here, but nothing came at first.

I did remember the sleek black car, the glass in the windows darker than that on a limousine. The engine was almost silent, though we'd raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed.

And I remembered Alex sitting with me on the dark leather backseat. Somehow, during the long night, my head had ended up against their granite neck. My closeness didn't seem to bother them at all, and their cool, hard skin was oddly comforting to me. The front of their thin cotton shirt was cold, damp with the tears that streamed from my eyes until, red and sore, they ran dry.

Sleep had evaded me; my aching eyes strained open even though the night finally ended and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I couldn't close them; when I did, the images that flashed all too vividly, like still slides behind my lids, were unbearable. Charlie's broken expression - Edythe's brutal snarl, teeth bared - Rosalie's resentful glare - the keen-eyed scrutiny of the tracker - the dead look in Edythe's eyes after she kissed me the last time... I couldn't stand to see them. So I fought against my weariness and the sun rose higher.

I was still awake when we came through a shallow mountain pass and the sun, behind us now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of the Valley of the Sun. I didn't have enough emotion left to be surprised that we'd made a three-day journey in one. I stared blankly at the wide, flat expanse laid out in front of me. Phoenix - the palm trees, the scrubby creosote, the haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways, the green swaths of golf courses and turquoise splotches of swimming pools, all submerged in a thin smog and embraced by the short, rocky ridges that weren't really big enough to be called mountains.

The shadows of the palm trees slanted across the freeway - defined, sharper than I remembered, paler than they should be. Nothing could hide in these shadows. The bright, open freeway seemed benign enough. But I felt no relief, no sense of homecoming.

"Which way to the airport, Bella?" Jamie had asked, and I flinched, though their voice was quite soft and un-alarming. It was the first sound, besides the purr of the car, to break the long night's silence.

"Stay on the I-10," I'd answered automatically. "We'll pass right by it."

My brain had worked slowly through the fog of sleep deprivation.

"Are we flying somewhere?" I'd asked Alex.

"No, but it's better to be close, just in case."

I remembered beginning the loop around Sky Harbor International... but not ending it. I suppose that must have been when I'd fallen asleep.

Though, now that I'd chased the memories down, I did have a vague impression of leaving the car - the sun was just falling behind the horizon - my arm draped over Alex's shoulder and their arm firm around my waist, dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows.

I had no memory of this room.

I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o'clock, but they gave no indication if it was night or day. No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps.

I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.

It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. My room looked out on a deserted section of the freeway and the new long-term parking garage for the airport. It was slightly comforting to be able to pinpoint time and place.

I looked down at myself. I was still wearing Esme's clothes, and they didn't fit very well at all. I looked around the room, glad when I discovered my duffel bag on top of the low dresser.

I was on my way to find new clothes when a light tap on the door made me jump.

"Can I come in?" Alex asked.

I took a deep breath. "Sure."

They walked in, and looked me over cautiously. "You look like you could sleep longer," they said.

I just shook my head.

Alex drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before turning back to me.

"We'll need to stay inside," they told me.

"Okay." My voice was hoarse; it cracked.

"Thirsty?" they asked.

I shrugged. "I'm okay. How about you?"

"Nothing unmanageable." Alex smiled. "I ordered some food for you, it's in the front room. Edythe reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do."

I was instantly more alert. "She called?"

"No," they said, and watched as my face fell. "It was before we left."

Alex took my hand carefully and led me through the door into the living room of the hotel suite. I could hear a low buzz of voices coming from the TV. Jamie sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, their eyes watching the news with no glimmer of interest.

I sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited, and began picking at it without noticing what I was eating.

Alex perched on the arm of the sofa and stared blankly at the TV like Jamie.

I ate slowly, watching Alex, turning now and then to glance quickly at Jamie. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. They never looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. I pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy. Alex looked down at me.

"What's wrong, Alex?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong." Their eyes were wide, honest... and I didn't trust them.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait for Carine to call."

"And should she have called by now?" I could see that I was near the mark.

Alex's eyes flitted from mine to the phone on top of her leather bag and back.

"What does that mean?" My voice quavered, and I fought to control it. "That she hasn't called yet?"

"It just means that they don't have anything to tell us."

But their voice was too even, and the air was harder to breathe.

Jamie was suddenly beside Alex, closer to me than usual.

"Bella," they said in a suspiciously soothing voice. "You have nothing to worry about. You are completely safe here."

"I know that."

"Then why are you frightened?" Jamie asked, confused. He might feel the tenor of my emotions, but she couldn't read the reasons behind them.

"You heard what Lauren said." My voice was just a whisper, but I was sure they could hear me. "She said James was lethal. What if something goes wrong, and they get separated? If something happens to any of them, Carine, Eleanor... Edythe..." I gulped. "If that wild one hurts Esme..." My voice had grown higher, a note of hysteria beginning to rise in it. "How could I live with myself when it's my fault? None of you should be risking yourselves for me -"

"Bella, Bella, stop," Jamie interrupted me, their words pouring out so quickly it was hard for me to understand. "You're worrying about all the wrong things, Bella. Trust me on this - none of us are in jeopardy. You are under too much strain as it is; don't add to it with wholly unnecessary worries. Listen to me!" they ordered, for I had looked away. "Our family is strong. Our only fear is losing you."

"But why should you -"

Alex interrupted this time, touching my cheek with their cold fingers. "It's been almost a century that Edythe's been alone. Now she's found you. You can't see the changes that we see, we who have been with her for so long. Do you think any of us want to look into her eyes for the next hundred years if she loses you?"

My guilt slowly subsided as I looked into her dark eyes. But, even as the calm spread over me, I knew I couldn't trust my feelings with Jamie there.

It was a very long day.

We stayed in the room. Alex called down to the front desk and asked them to ignore our maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on, though no one watched it. At regular intervals, food was delivered for me. The silver phone resting on Alex's bag seemed to grow bigger as the hours passed.

My babysitters handled the suspense better than I did. As I fidgeted and paced, they simply grew more still, two statues whose eyes followed me imperceptibly as I moved. I occupied myself with memorizing the room; the striped pattern of the couches, tan, peach, cream, dull gold, and tan again. Sometimes I stared at the abstract prints, randomly finding pictures in the shapes, like I'd found pictures in the clouds as a child. I traced a blue hand, a woman combing her hair, a cat stretching. But when the pale red circle became a staring eye, I looked away.

As the afternoon wore on, I went back to bed, simply for something to do. I hoped that by myself in the dark, I could give in to the terrible fears that hovered on the edge of my consciousness, unable to break through under Jamie's careful supervision.

But Alex followed me casually, as if by some coincidence they had grown tired of the front room at the same time. I was beginning to wonder exactly what sort of instructions Edythe had given them. I lay across the bed, and Alex sat, legs folded, next to me. I ignored them at first, suddenly tired enough to sleep. But after a few minutes, the panic that had held off in Jamie's presence began to make itself known. I gave up on the idea of sleep quickly then, curling up into a small ball, wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Alex?" I asked.

"Yes?"

I kept my voice very calm. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Carine wanted to lead the tracker as far north as possible, wait for him to get close, and then turn and ambush him. Esme and Rosalie were supposed to head west as long as they could keep the female behind them. If she turned around, they were to head back to Forks and keep an eye on your dad. So I imagine things are going well if they can't call. It means the tracker is close enough that they don't want him to overhear."

"And Esme?"

"I think she must be back in Forks. She won't call if there's any chance the female will overhear. I expect they're all just being very careful."

"Do you think they're safe, really?"

"Bella, how many times do we have to tell you that there's no danger to us?"

"Would you tell me the truth, though?"

"Yes. I will always tell you the truth." Their voice was earnest.

I deliberated for a moment, and decided she meant it.

"Tell me then... how do you become a vampire?"

My question caught them off guard. Alex was quiet. I rolled over to look at them, and their expression seemed ambivalent.

"Edythe doesn't want me to tell you that," they said firmly, but I sensed they didn't agree.

"That's not fair. I think I have a right to know."

"I know."

I looked at them, waiting.

Alex sighed. "She'll be extremely angry."

"It's none of her business. This is between you and me. Alex, as a friend, I'm begging you." And we were friends now, somehow - as they must have known we would be all along.

They looked at me with their wise, wide eyes...choosing.

"I'll tell you the mechanics of it," they said finally, "but I don't remember it myself, and I've never done it or seen it done, so keep in mind that I can only tell you the theory."

I waited.

"As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal - much, much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses, not to mention those of us like Edythe, Jamie, and I, who have extra senses as well. And then, like a carnivorous flower, we are physically attractive to our prey."

I was very still, remembering how pointedly Edythe had demonstrated the same concept for me in the meadow.

They smiled a wide, ominous smile. "We have another fairly superfluous weapon. We're also venomous," Alex said, their teeth glistening. "The venom doesn't kill - it's merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. Mostly superfluous, as I said. If we're that close, the prey doesn't escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. Carine, for example."

"So... if the venom is left to spread..." I murmured.

"It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and the conversion is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death."

I shivered.

"It's not pleasant, you see."

"Edythe said that it was very hard to do... I don't quite understand," I said.

"We're also like sharks in a way. Once we taste the blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it would begin the frenzy. It's difficult on both sides - the blood-lust on the one hand, the awful pain on the other."

"Why do you think you don't remember?"

"I don't know. For everyone else, the pain of transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I only remember one thing, but I’m not even sure it  _ was _ a memory. I thought I remembered someone saying my name--calling me Alex. But maybe I was remembering something that hadn’t happened yet--seeing that someday someone  _ would _ call me Alex.” They smiled at my expression. “I know, it’s a circular dilemma, isn’t it?”

Jamie had come in for the discussion, the story, and they were sitting on the edge of the bed near Alex. I knew part, or even most, of my calm came from their talent, but it was nice to be calm anyway.

I knew I had permission to keep asking about Alex and their life, so I asked what I was most curious about--their visions.

“It wasn’t as confusing as it probably  _ should _ have been,” Alex said when I asked what their first visions were like. “It seemed normal--I knew what I was seeing hadn’t happened. I think maybe I’d seen things before I changed. Or maybe I just adapt quickly.” They smiled, already knowing the question I had waiting. “It was Jamie. They were the first thing I saw.” And then, “No, I didn’t actually meet them in person until much later.”

Something about their tone made me wonder. “How long?”

“Twenty-eight years.”

“Twenty-eight! You had to wait twenty-eight  _ years _ ? But couldn’t you...?”

Alex nodded. “I could have found them earlier. I knew where they were. But Jamie wasn’t ready for met yet. If I’d come too early, they would have killed me.”

I gasped and stared at Jamie. They raised an eyebrow at me, and I looked back at Alex. Alex laughed.

“But Edythe said that you were the only one who could hold your own against her--?”

Jamie hissed--not like they were angry, but like they were annoyed. I glanced at them again and they were rolling their eyes.

“We’ll never know,” Alex said. “If Jamie was trying to kill Edythe, rather than just playing…? Well, Jamie has a lot of experience. Seeing the future isn’t the only reason I can keep up with Edythe--it’s also because it was Jamie who taught me how to fight. Lauren’s coven all had their eyes on Eleanor, and she’s pretty spectacular, I grant you. But if it had come to a fight, Eleanor wouldn’t have been their problem. If they’d taken a closer look at my darling--” Alex blew Jamie a kiss “--they would have forgotten all about our strong girl.”

I remembered the first time I had seen Jamie, in the cafeteria with all the others. Beautiful, like the others, but with that edge that frightened me as much as Rosalie’s hatred. Even before I’d put it into words inside my own head, I’d sensed there was something about them that matched up with what Alex was telling me now.

I looked at Alex.

“You can ask them,” they told me, “but it’s not going to happen.”

“You want to know my story?” Jamie guessed. They laughed once--it was a dark sound. “You’re not ready for that, Bella. Believe me.”

And although I was still curious, I did believe them.

Our conversation subsided, and Jamie went back out into the main room, presumably to stare unmoving at the television again. Alex and I lay silently, wrapped in our individual meditations.

The seconds ticked by, and I had almost forgotten Alex’s presence, I was so enveloped in my thoughts.

Then, without any warning, Alex leaped from the bed, landing lightly on their feet. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled.

"Something's changed." Their voice was urgent, and they weren’t talking to me anymore.

Alex reached the door at the same time Jamie did. They had obviously heard our conversation and Alex’s sudden exclamation. Jamie put their hands on their shoulders and guided them back to the bed, sitting them on the edge.

"What do you see?" Jamie asked intently, staring into Alex’s eyes, which were focused on something very far away. I sat close to them, leaning in to catch Alex’s quick, quick voice.

"I see a room. It's long, and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is wooden. He's in the room, and he's waiting. There's gold... a gold stripe across the mirrors."

"Where is the room?"

"I don't know. Something is missing - another decision hasn't been made yet."

"How much time?"

"It's soon. He'll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He's waiting for something. And he's in the dark now."

Jamie's voice was calm, methodical, as they questioned Alex in a practiced way. "What is he doing?"

"He's watching TV... no, he's running a VCR, in the dark, in another place."

"Can you see where he is?"

"No, it's too dark."

"And the mirror room, what else is there?"

"Just the mirrors, and the gold. It's a band, around the room. And there's a black table with a big stereo, and a TV. He's touching the VCR there, but he doesn't watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the room where he waits." Alex’s eyes drifted, then focused on Jamie's face.

"There's nothing else?"

Alex shook their head. They looked at each other, motionless.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

Neither of them answered for a moment, then Jamie looked at me.

"It means the tracker's plans have changed. He's made a decision that will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room."

"But we don't know where those rooms are?"

"No."

"But we do know that he won't be in the mountains north of Washington, being hunted. He'll elude them." Alex's voice was bleak.

"Should we call?" I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided.

And the phone rang.

Alex was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it.

They pushed a button and held the phone to their ear, but didn't speak first.

"Carine," she breathed. They didn't seem surprised or relieved, the way I felt.

"Yes," Alex said, glancing at me. They listened for a long moment.

"I just saw him." They described again the vision they'd seen. "Whatever made him get on that plane... it was leading him to those rooms." Alex paused. "Yes," Alex said into the phone, and then they spoke to me. "Bella?"

Alex held the phone out toward me. I ran to it.

"Hello?" I breathed.

"Bella," Edythe said.

"Oh, Edythe! I was so worried."

"Bella," she sighed in frustration, "I told you not to worry about anything but yourself." It was so unbelievably good to hear her voice. I felt the hovering cloud of despair lighten and drift back as she spoke.

"Where are you?"

"We're outside of Vancouver. Bella, I'm sorry - we lost him. He seems suspicious of us - he's careful to stay just far enough away that I can't hear what he's thinking. But he's gone now - it looks like he got on a plane. We think he's heading back to Forks to start over." I could hear Alex filling in Jamie behind me, their quick words blurring together into a humming noise.

"I know. Alex saw that he got away."

"You don't have to worry, though. He won't find anything to lead him to you. You just have to stay there and wait till we find him again."

"I'll be fine. Is Esme with Charlie?"

"Yes - the female has been in town. She went to the house, but while Charlie was at work. She hasn't gone near him, so don't be afraid. He's safe with Esme and Rosalie watching."

"What is she doing?"

"Probably trying to pick up the trail. She's been all through the town during the night. Rosalie traced her through the airport, all the roads around town, the school... she's digging, Bella, but there's nothing to find."

"And you're sure Charlie's safe?"

"Yes, Esme won't let him out of her sight. And we'll be there soon. If the tracker gets anywhere near Forks, we'll have him."

"I miss you," I whispered.

"I know, Bella. Believe me, I know. It's like you've taken half myself away with you."

"Come and get it, then," I challenged.

"Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I will make you safe first." Her voice was hard.

"I love you," I reminded her.

"Could you believe that, despite everything I've put you through, I love you, too?"

"Yes, I can, actually."

"I'll come for you soon."

"I'll be waiting."

As soon as the phone went dead, the cloud of depression began to creep over me again.

I turned to give the phone back to Alex and found them and Jamie bent over the table, where Alex was sketching on a piece of hotel stationery. I leaned on the back of the couch, looking over their shoulder.

Alex drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthwise across the room. Down the walls were lines denoting the breaks in the mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band. The band Alex said was gold.

"It's a ballet studio," I said, suddenly recognizing the familiar shapes.

They looked at me, surprised.

"Do you know this room?" Jamie's voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of something I couldn't identify. Alex bent their head to the paper, their hand flying across the page now, the shape of an emergency exit taking shape against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by the front right corner.

"It looks like a place I used to go for dance lessons - when I was eight or nine. It was shaped just the same." I touched the page where the square section jutted out, narrowing the back part of the room. "That's where the bathrooms were - the doors were through the other dance floor. But the stereo was here" - I pointed to the left corner - "it was older, and there wasn't a TV. There was a window in the waiting room - you would see the room from this perspective if you looked through it."

Alex and Jamie were staring at me.

"Are you sure it's the same room?" Jamie asked, still calm.

"No, not at all - I suppose most dance studios would look the same - the mirrors, the bar." I traced my finger along the ballet bar set against the mirrors. "It's just the shape that looked familiar." I touched the door, set in exactly the same place as the one I remembered.

"Would you have any reason to go there now?" Alex asked, breaking my reverie.

"No, I haven't been there in almost ten years. I was a terrible dancer - they always put me in the back for recitals," I admitted.

"So there's no way it could be connected with you?" Alex asked intently.

"No, I don't even think the same person owns it. I'm sure it's just another dance studio, somewhere."

"Where was the studio you went to?" Jamie asked in a casual voice.

"It was just around the corner from my mom's house. I used to walk there after school..." I said, my voice trailing off. I didn't miss the look they exchanged.

"Here in Phoenix, then?" Their voice was still casual.

"Yes," I whispered. "Fifty-eighth Street and Cactus."

We all sat in silence, staring at the drawing.

"Alex, is that phone safe?"

"Yes," she reassured me. "The number would just trace back to Washington."

"Then I can use it to call my mom."

"I thought she was in Florida."

"She is - but she's coming home soon, and she can't come back to that house while..." My voice trembled. I was thinking about something Edythe had said, about the red-haired female at Charlie's house, at the school, where my records would be.

"How will you reach her?"

"They don't have a permanent number except at the house - she's supposed to check her messages regularly."

"Jamie?" Alex asked.

They thought about it. "I don't think there's any way it could hurt - be sure you don't say where you are, of course."

I reached eagerly for the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang four times, and then I heard my mom's breezy voice telling me to leave a message.

"Mom," I said after the beep, "it's me. Listen, I need you to do something. It's important. As soon as you get this message, call me at this number." Alex was already at my side, writing the number for me on the bottom of her picture. I read it carefully, twice. "Please don't go anywhere until you talk to me. Don't worry, I'm okay, but I have to talk to you right away, no matter how late you get this call, all right? I love you, Mom. Bye." I closed my eyes and prayed with all my might that no unforeseen change of plans would bring her home before she got my message.

I settled into the sofa, nibbling on a plate of leftover fruit, anticipating a long evening. I thought about calling Charlie, but I wasn't sure if I should be home by now or not. I concentrated on the news, watching out for stories about Florida, or about spring training - strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks - anything that might send them home early.

Immortality must grant endless patience. Neither Jamie nor Alex seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Alex sketched the vague outline of the dark room from their vision, as much as they could see in the light from the TV. But when they was done, Alex simply sat, looking at the blank walls with their timeless eyes. Jamie, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the door, the way I did.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring again. The touch of Alex's cold hands woke me briefly as they carried me to the bed, but I was unconscious again before my head hit the pillow.


	22. Phone Call

I could feel it was too early again when I woke, and I knew I was getting the schedule of my days and nights slowly reversed. I lay in my bed and listened to the quiet voices of Alex and Jamie in the other room. That they were loud enough for me to hear at all was strange. I rolled till my feet touched the floor and then staggered to the living room.

The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. Alex and Jamie were sitting together on the sofa, and Alex sketching again while Jamie looked over their shoulder. They didn't look up when I entered, too engrossed in Alex's work.

I crept to Jamie's side to peek.

"Did they see something more?" I asked Jamie quietly.

"Yes. Something's brought the hunter back to the room with the VCR, but it's light now."

I watched as Alex drew a square room with dark beams across its low ceiling. The walls were paneled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an opening through the west wall led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone - a large tan stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An aged sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it.

"The phone goes there," I whispered, pointing.

Two pairs of eternal eyes stared at me.

"That's my mother's house."

Alex was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialing. I stared at the precise rendering of my mother's family room. Uncharacteristically, Jamie slid closer to me. They lightly touched their hand to my shoulder, and the physical contact seemed to make their calming influence stronger. The panic stayed dull, unfocused.

Alex's lips were trembling with the speed of their words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher. I couldn't concentrate.

"Bella," Alex said. I looked at them numbly.

"Bella, Edythe is coming to get you. She and Eleanor and Carine are going to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while."

"Edythe is coming?" The words were like a life vest, holding my head above the flood.

"Yes, she's catching the first flight out of Seattle. We'll meet her at the airport, and you'll leave with her."

"But, my mother... he came here for my mother, Alex!" Despite Jamie, the hysteria bubbled up in my voice.

"Jamie and I will stay till your mother safe."

"I can't win, Alex. You can't guard everyone I know forever. Don't you see what he's doing? He's not tracking me at all. He'll find someone, he'll hurt someone I love... Alex, I can't -"

"We'll catch him, Bella," Alex assured me.

"And what if you get hurt, Alex? Do you think that's okay with me? Do you think it's only my human family he can hurt me with?"

Alex looked meaningfully at Jamie. A deep, heavy fog of lethargy washed over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. My mind struggled against the fog, realizing what was happening. I forced my eyes open and stood up, stepping away from Jamie's hand.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," I snapped.

I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Alex didn't follow me. Maybe they could see what their reception would be like. For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. I could see only one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it.

The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that I would see Edythe soon. Maybe, if I could just see her face again, I would also be able to see the solution that eluded me now.

When the phone rang, I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my behavior. I hoped I hadn't offended either of them, that they would know how grateful I was for the sacrifices they were making on my account.

Alex was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught my attention was that, for the first time, Jamie was not in the room. I looked at the clock - it was five-thirty in the morning.

"They're just boarding their plane," Alex told me. "They'll land at nine-forty-five." Just a few more hours to keep breathing till she was here.

"Where's Jamie?"

"They went to check out."

"You aren't staying here?"

"No, we're relocating closer to your mother's house."

My stomach twisted uneasily at Alex’s words.

But the phone rang again, distracting me. Alex looked surprised, but I was already walking forward, reaching hopefully for the phone.

"Hello?" Alex asked. "No, she's right here." They held the phone out to me. Your mother, they mouthed.

"Hello?"

"Bella? Bella?" It was my mother's voice, in a familiar tone I had heard a thousand times in my childhood, anytime I'd gotten too close to the edge of the sidewalk or strayed out of her sight in a crowded place. It was the sound of panic.

I sighed. I'd been expecting this, though I'd tried to make my message as unalarming as possible without lessening the urgency of it.

"Calm down, Mom," I said in my most soothing voice, walking slowly away from Alex. I wasn't sure if I could lie as convincingly with her eyes on me. "Everything is fine, okay? Just give me a minute and I'll explain everything, I promise."

I paused, surprised that she hadn't interrupted me yet.

"Mom?"

"Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to." The voice I heard now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man's tenor voice, a very pleasant, generic voice - the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly.

"Now, I don't need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she'll be fine." The hunter paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. "That's very good," he congratulated. "Now repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, 'No, Mom, stay where you are.'"

"No, Mom, stay where you are." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I can see this is going to be difficult." The voice was amused, still light and friendly. "Why don't you walk into another room now so your face doesn't ruin everything? There's no reason for your mother to suffer. As you're walking, please say, 'Mom, please listen to me.' Say it now."

"Mom, please listen to me," my voice pleaded. I walked very slowly to the bedroom, feeling Alex's worried stare on my back. I shut the door behind me, trying to think clearly through the terror that gripped my brain.

"There now, are you alone? Just answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"But they can still hear you, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"All right, then," the agreeable voice continued, "say, 'Mom, trust me.'"

"Mom, trust me."

"This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but your mother arrived ahead of schedule. It's easier this way, isn't it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you."

I waited.

"Now I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no."

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother's life depended on it? Answer yes or no."

Somehow, there had to be a way. I remembered that we were going to the airport. Sky Harbor International Airport: crowded, confusingly laid out...

"Yes."

"That's better. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your mother," the friendly voice promised. "You must know enough about us by now to realize how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your mother if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no."

"Yes." My voice broke.

"Very good, Bella. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to your mother's house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it, and I'll tell you where to go from there." I already knew where I would go, and where this would end. But I would follow his instructions exactly. "Can you do that? Answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"Before noon, please, Bella. I haven't got all day," he said politely.

"Where's Phil?" I asked tersely.

"Ah, be careful now, Bella. Wait until I ask you to speak, please."

I waited.

"It's important, now, that you don't make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called, and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, 'Thank you, Mom.' Say it now."

"Thank you, Mom." The tears were coming. I tried to fight them back.

"Say, 'I love you, Mom, I'll see you soon.' Say it now."

"I love you, Mom." My voice was thick. "I'll see you soon," I promised.

"Goodbye, Bella. I look forward to seeing you again." And he hung up.

I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen with terror - I couldn't unbend my fingers to drop it.

I knew I had to think, but my head was filled with the sound of my mother's panic. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control.

Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of pain. To plan. For I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored room and die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep my mother alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating Edythe would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that could influence him. But I still had no choice. I had to try.

I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did no good to waste time agonizing over the outcome. I had to think clearly, because Alex and Jamie were waiting for me, and evading them was absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible.

I was suddenly grateful that Jamie was gone. If they had been here to feel my anguish in the last five minutes, how could I have kept them from being suspicious? I choked back the dread, the anxiety, tried to stifle it. I couldn't afford it now. I didn't know when they would return.

I concentrated on my escape. I had to hope that my familiarity with the airport would turn the odds in my favor. Somehow, I had to keep Alex away...

I knew Alex was in the other room waiting for me, curious. But I had to deal with one more thing in private, before Jamie was back.

I had to accept that I wouldn't see Edythe again, not even one last glimpse of her face to carry with me to the mirror room. I was going to hurt her, and I couldn't say goodbye. I let the waves of torture wash over me, have their way for a time. Then I pushed them back, too, and went to face Alex.

The only expression I could manage was a dull, dead look. I saw Alex’s alarm and I didn't wait for them to ask. I had just one script and I'd never manage improvisation now.

"My mom was worried, she wanted to come home. But it's okay, I convinced her to stay away." My voice was lifeless.

"We'll make sure she's fine, Bella, don't worry."

I turned away; I couldn't let them see my face.

My eye fell on a blank page of the hotel stationery on the desk. I went to it slowly, a plan forming. There was an envelope there, too. That was good.

"Alex," I asked slowly, without turning, keeping my voice level. "If I write a letter for my mother, would you give it to her? Leave it at the house, I mean."

"Sure, Bella." Their voice was careful. Alex could see me coming apart at the seams. I had to keep my emotions under better control.

I went into the bedroom again, and knelt next to the little bedside table to write.

" _ Edythe, _ " I wrote. My hand was shaking, the letters were hardly legible.

_ I love you. I am so sorry. He has my mom, and I have to try. I know it may not work. I am so very, very sorry. _

_ Don't be angry with Alex and Jamie. If I get away from them it will be a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Alex especially, please. _

_ And please, please, don't come after him. That's what he wants. I think. I can't bear it if anyone has to be hurt because of me, especially you. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me. _

_ I love you. Forgive me. _

_ Bella _

I folded the letter carefully, and sealed it in the envelope. Eventually she would find it. I only hoped she would understand, and listen to me just this once.

And then I carefully sealed away my heart.


	23. Hide And Seek

It had taken much less time than I'd thought - all the terror, the despair, the shattering of my heart. The minutes were ticking by more slowly than usual. Jamie still hadn't come back when I returned to Alex. I was afraid to be in the same room with Alex, afraid that they would guess... and afraid to hide from them for the same reason.

I would have thought I was far beyond the ability to be surprised, my thoughts tortured and unstable, but I was surprised when I saw Alex bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands.

"Alex?"

They didn't react when I called their name, but their head was slowly rocking side to side, and I saw their face. Their eyes were blank, dazed... My thoughts flew to my mother. Was I already too late?

I hurried to Alex’ side, reaching out automatically to touch their hand.

"Alex!" Jamie's voice whipped, and then they were right behind Alex, their hands curling over Alex’s, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.

"What is it?" Jamie demanded.

Alex turned their face away from me, into Jamie’s chest. "Bella," Alex said.

"I'm right here," I replied.

Alex’s head twisted around, their eyes locking on mine, their expression still strangely blank. I realized at once that they hadn't been speaking to me, that they’d been answering Jamie's question.

"What did you see?" I said - and there was no question in my flat, uncaring voice.

Jamie looked at me sharply. I kept my expression vacant and waited. Jamie’s eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Alex's face and mine, feeling the chaos... for I could guess what Alex had seen now.

I felt a tranquil atmosphere settle around me. I welcomed it, using it to keep my emotions disciplined, under control.

Alex, too, recovered themself.

"Nothing, really," they answered finally, their voice remarkably calm and convincing. "Just the same room as before."

Alex finally looked at me, their expression smooth and withdrawn. "Did you want breakfast?"

"No, I'll eat at the airport." I was very calm, too. I went to the bathroom to shower. Almost as if I were borrowing Jamie's strange extra sense, I could feel Alex's wild - though well-concealed - desperation to have me out of the room, to be alone with Jamie. So they could tell Jamie that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail...

I got ready methodically, concentrating on each little task. I left my hair down, swirling around me, covering my face. The peaceful mood Jamie created worked its way through me and helped me think clearly. Helped me plan. I dug through my bag until I found my sock full of money. I emptied it into my pocket.

I was anxious to get to the airport, and glad when we left by seven. I sat alone this time in the back of the dark car. Alex leaned against the door, their face toward Jamie but, behind their sunglasses, shooting glances in my direction every few seconds.

"Alex?" I asked indifferently.

They were wary. "Yes?"

"How does it work? The things that you see?" I stared out the side window, and my voice sounded bored. "Edythe said it wasn't definite... that things change?" It was harder than I would have thought to say her name. That must have been what alerted Jamie, why a fresh wave of serenity filled the car.

"Yes, things change..." Alex murmured - hopefully, I thought. "Some things are more certain than others... like the weather. People are harder. I only see the course they're on while they're on it. Once they change their minds - make a new decision, no matter how small - the whole future shifts."

I nodded thoughtfully. "So you couldn't see James in Phoenix until he decided to come here."

"Yes," they agreed, wary again.

And they hadn't seen me in the mirror room with James until I'd made the decision to meet him there. I tried not to think about what else Alex might have seen. I didn't want my panic to make Jamie more suspicious. They would be watching me twice as carefully now, anyway, after Alex's vision. This was going to be impossible.

We got to the airport. Luck was with me, or maybe it was just good odds. Edythe's plane was landing in terminal four, the largest terminal, where most flights landed - so it wasn't surprising that hers was. But it was the terminal I needed: the biggest, the most confusing. And there was a door on level three that might be the only chance.

We parked on the fourth floor of the huge garage. I led the way, for once more knowledgeable about my surroundings than they were. We took the elevator down to level three, where the passengers unloaded. Alex and Jamie spent a long time looking at the departing flights board. I could hear them discussing the pros and cons of New York, Atlanta, Chicago. Places I'd never seen. And would never see.

I waited for my opportunity, impatient, unable to stop my toe from tapping. We sat in the long rows of chairs by the metal detectors, Jamie and Alex pretending to people-watch but really watching me. Every inch I shifted in my seat was followed by a quick glance out of the corner of their eyes. It was hopeless. Should I run? Would they dare to stop me physically in this public place? Or would they simply follow?

I pulled the unmarked envelope out of my pocket and set it on top of Alex's black leather bag. She looked at me.

"My letter," I said. Alex nodded, tucking it under the top flap. Edythe would find it soon enough.

The minutes passed and Edythe's arrival grew closer. It was amazing how every cell in my body seemed to know she was coming, to long for her coming. That made it very hard. I found myself trying to think of excuses to stay, to see her first and then make my escape. But I knew that was impossible if I was going to have any chance to get away.

Several times Alex offered to go get breakfast with me. Later, I told them. Not yet.

I stared at the arrival board, watching as flight after flight arrived on time. The flight from Seattle crept closer to the top of the board.

And then, when I had only thirty minutes to make my escape, the numbers changed. Her plane was ten minutes early. I had no more time.

"I think I'll eat now," I said quickly.

Alex stood. "I'll come with you."

"Do you mind if Jamie comes instead?" I asked. "I'm feeling a little..." I didn't finish the sentence. My eyes were wild enough to convey what I didn't say.

Jamie stood up. Alex's eyes were confused, but - I saw to my relief- not suspicious. They must be attributing the change in her vision to some maneuver of the tracker's rather than a betrayal by me.

Jamie walked silently beside me, their hand on the small of my back, as if they were guiding me. I pretended a lack of interest in the first few airport cafes, my head scanning for what I really wanted. And there it was, around the corner, out of Alex's sharp sight: the level-three ladies' room.

"Do you mind?" I asked Jamie as we passed. "I'll just be a moment."

"I'll be right here," they said.

As soon as the door shut behind me, I was running. I remembered the time I had gotten lost from this bathroom, because it had two exits.

Outside the far door it was only a short sprint to the elevators, and if Jamie stayed where they said they would, I'd never be in their line of sight. I didn't look behind me as I ran. This was my only chance, and even if Jamie did saw me, I had to keep going. People stared, but I ignored them. Around the corner the elevators were waiting, and I dashed forward, throwing my hand between the closing doors of a full elevator headed down. I squeezed in beside the irritated passengers, and checked to make sure that the button for level one had been pushed. It was already lit, and the doors closed.

As soon as the door opened I was off again, to the sound of annoyed murmurs behind me. I slowed myself as I passed the security guards by the luggage carousels, only to break into a run again as the exit doors came into view. I had no way of knowing if Jamie was looking for me yet.

I would have only seconds if she was following my scent. I jumped out the automatic doors, nearly smacking into the glass when they opened too slowly.

Along the crowded curb there wasn't a cab in sight.

I had no time. Alex and Jamie were either about to realize I was gone, or they already had. They would find me in a heartbeat.

A shuttle to the Hyatt was just closing its doors a few feet behind me.

"Wait!" I called, running, waving at the driver.

"This is the shuttle to the Hyatt," the driver said in confusion as he opened the doors.

"Yes," I huffed, "that's where I'm going." I hurried up the steps.

He looked askance at my luggage-less state, but then shrugged, not caring enough to ask.

Most of the seats were empty. I sat as far from the other travelers as possible, and watched out the window as first the sidewalk, and then the airport, drifted away. I couldn't help imagining Edythe, where she would stand at the edge of the road when she found the end of my trail. I couldn't cry yet, I told myself. I still had a long way to go.

My luck held. In front of the Hyatt, a tired-looking couple was getting their last suitcase out of the trunk of a cab. I jumped out of the shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at me.

I told the surprised cabbie my mother's address. "I need to get there as soon as possible."

"That's in Scottsdale," she complained.

I threw four twenties over the seat.

"Will that be enough?"

"Sure, kid, no problem."

I sat back against the seat, folding my arms across my lap. The familiar city began to rush around me, but I didn't look out the windows. I exerted myself to maintain control. I was determined not to lose myself at this point, now that my plan was successfully completed. There was no point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. My path was set. I just had to follow it now.

So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes' drive with Edythe.

I imagined that I had stayed at the airport to meet Edythe. I visualized how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see her face. How quickly, how gracefully she would move through the crowds of people separating us. And then I would run to close those last few feet between us - reckless as always - and I would be in her marble arms, finally safe.

I wondered where we would have gone. North somewhere, so she could be outside in the day. Or maybe somewhere very remote, so we could lay in the sun together again. I imagined her by the shore, her skin sparkling like the sea. It wouldn't matter how long we had to hide. To be trapped in a hotel room with her would be a kind of heaven. So many questions I still had for her. I could talk to her forever, never sleeping, never leaving her side.

I could see her face so clearly now... almost hear her voice. And, despite all the horror and hopelessness, I was fleetingly happy. So involved was I in my escapist daydreams, I lost all track of the seconds racing by.

"Hey, what was the number?"

The cabbie's question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.

"Fifty-eight twenty-one." My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.

"Here we are, then." She was anxious to get me out of her car, probably hoping I wouldn't ask for my change.

"Thank you," I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me, frightened, depending on me.

I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. I unlocked the door. It was dark inside, empty, normal. I ran to the phone, turning on the kitchen light on my way. There, on the whiteboard, was a ten-digit number written in a small, neat hand. My fingers stumbled over the keypad, making mistakes. I had to hang up and start again. I concentrated only on the buttons this time, carefully pressing each one in turn. I was successful. I held the phone to my ear with a shaking hand. It rang only once.

"Hello, Bella," that easy voice answered. "That was very quick. I'm impressed."

"Is my mom all right?"

"She's perfectly fine. Don't worry, Bella, I have no quarrel with her. Unless you didn't come alone, of course." Light, amused.

"I'm alone." I'd never been more alone in my entire life.

"Very good. Now, do you know the ballet studio just around the corner from your home?"

"Yes. I know how to get there."

"Well, then, I'll see you very soon."

I hung up.

I ran from the room, through the door, out into the baking heat.

There was no time to look back at my house, and I didn't want to see it as it was now - empty, a symbol of fear instead of sanctuary. The last person to walk through those familiar rooms was my enemy.

From the corner of my eye, I could almost see my mother standing in the shade of the big eucalyptus tree where I'd played as a child. Or kneeling by the little plot of dirt around the mailbox, the cemetery of all the flowers she'd tried to grow. The memories were better than any reality I would see today. But I raced away from them, toward the corner, leaving everything behind me.

I felt so slow, like I was running through wet sand - I couldn't seem to get enough purchase from the concrete. I tripped several times, once falling, catching myself with my hands, scraping them on the sidewalk, and then lurching up to plunge forward again. But at last I made it to the corner. Just another street now; I ran, sweat pouring down my face, gasping. The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green, protective forests of Forks... of home.

When I rounded the last corner, onto Cactus, I could see the studio, looking just as I remembered it. The parking lot in front was empty, the vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. I couldn't run anymore - I couldn't breathe; exertion and fear had gotten the best of me. I thought of my mother to keep my feet moving, one in front of the other.

As I got closer, I could see the sign inside the door. It was handwritten on hot pink paper; it said the dance studio was closed for spring break. I touched the handle, tugged on it cautiously. It was unlocked. I fought to catch my breath, and opened the door.

The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The plastic molded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet smelled like shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, I could see through the open viewing window. The east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit. But the blinds were closed on the window.

Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I couldn't make my feet move forward.

And then my mother's voice called.

"Bella? Bella?" That same tone of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the door, to the sound of her voice.

"Bella, you scared me! Don't you ever do that to me again!" Her voice continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.

I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I heard her laugh, and I whirled to the sound.

There she was, on the TV screen, tousling my hair in relief. It was Thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We'd gone to see my grandmother in California, the last year before she died. We went to the beach one day, and I'd leaned too far over the edge of the pier. She'd seen my feet flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. "Bella? Bella?" she'd called to me in fear.

And then the TV screen was blue.

I turned slowly. He was standing very still by the back exit, so still I hadn't noticed him at first. In his hand was a remote control. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he smiled.

He walked toward me, quite close, and then passed me to put the remote down next to the VCR. I turned carefully to watch him.

"Sorry about that, Bella, but isn't it better that your mother didn't really have to be involved in all this?" His voice was courteous, kind.

And suddenly it hit me. My mother was safe. She was still in Florida. She'd never gotten my message. She'd never been terrified by the dark red eyes in the abnormally pale face before me. She was safe.

"Yes," I answered, my voice saturated with relief.

"You don't sound angry that I tricked you."

"I'm not." My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would soon be over. Charlie and Mom would never be harmed, would never have to fear. I felt almost giddy. Some analytical part of my mind warned me that I was dangerously close to snapping from the stress.

"How odd. You really mean it." His dark eyes assessed me with interest. The irises were nearly black, just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. "I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It's amazing - some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all."

He was standing a few feet away from me, arms folded, looking at me curiously. There was no menace in his face or stance. He was very average-looking, nothing remarkable about his face or body at all. Just the white skin, the circled eyes I'd grown so used to. He wore a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that your girlfriend will avenge you?" he asked--hopefully, I thought.

"No, I don't think so. At least, I asked her not to."

"And what was her reply to that?"

"I don't know." It was strangely easy to converse with this genteel hunter. "I left her a letter."

"How romantic, a last letter. And do you think she will honor it?" His voice was just a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring his polite tone.

"I hope so."

"Hmmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I'm disappointed. I expected a much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck."

I waited in silence.

"When Victoria couldn't get to your father, I had her find out more about you. There was no sense in running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So, after I talked to Victoria, I decided to come to Phoenix to pay your mother a visit. I'd heard you say you were going home. At first, I never dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And wouldn't it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you're hiding - the place that you said you'd be.

"But of course I wasn't sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey that I'm hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I listened to your message when I got to your mother's house, but of course I couldn't be sure where you'd called from. It was very useful to have your number, but you could have been in Antarctica for all I knew, and the game wouldn't work unless you were close by.

"Then your girlfriend got on a plane to Phoenix. Victoria was monitoring them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn't be working alone. And that move told me what I'd hoped, that you were here after all. I was prepared; I'd already been through your charming home movies. And then it was simply a matter of the bluff.

"Very easy, you know, not really up to my standards. So, you see, I'm hoping you're wrong about your girlfriend. Edythe, isn't it?"

I didn't answer. The bravado was wearing off. I sensed that he was coming to the end of his gloat. It wasn't meant for me anyway. There was no glory in beating me, a weak human.

"Would you mind, very much, if I left a little letter of my own for your Edythe?"

He took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, widened the frame. I stared at him in horror.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't think she'll be able to resist hunting me after she watches this. And I wouldn't want her to miss anything. It was all for her, of course. You're simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add."

He stepped toward me, smiling. "Before we begin..."

I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as she spoke. This was something I had not anticipated.

"I’m going to tell you a story, Bella. I would just like to rub my victory in, just a little bit. The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid Edythe would see that and ruin my fun. Only once has my prey escaped me, just once. It happened, oh, ages ago. That one and only time my prey escaped me.

“There was a delicious, young human--it smelled even better than you do, no offense--but only one vampire protected the delicate thing. It should have been a very easy meal. However, I underestimated the human’s protector. When she knew I was after her  _ pal _ , the vampire stole the human from the asylum where she worked--can you imagine the degradation? Actually working a  _ human job _ for your food?” He shook his head in disbelief. “As I was saying, she took her pet from the asylum, and once she freed it she made it safe. This human was important enough to the vampire, but then,  _ it _ was special. A hundred years earlier the pet would have been burned at the stake for their visions. In the nineteen-twenties, it was the asylum and shock treatments for them. Poor thing--they didn’t even seem to notice the pain of their transformation. When they opened their eyes, it was like they’d never seen the sun before. The old vampire made  _ my prey _ into a strong, new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch them then, no blood to enjoy.” He signed. “I destroyed the old one in vengeance.”

"Alex," I breathed, astonished.

"Yes, your little friend. I was surprised to see them in the clearing. So I guess their coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get them. The one victim who escaped me--quite an honor, actually.

"And they did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste...They smelled even better than you do. Sorry,” he smirked, “I don't mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow..."

He took another step toward me, and another, until he was just inches away. He lifted a lock of my hair and sniffed at it delicately. Then he gently patted the strand back into place, and I felt his cool fingertips against my throat. He reached up to stroke my cheek once quickly with his thumb, face curious. I wanted so badly to run, but I was frozen. I couldn't even flinch away.

"No," he murmured to himself as he dropped his hand, "I don't understand." She sighed. "Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my little message."

I was definitely sick now. There was pain coming, I could see it in his eyes. It wouldn't be enough for her to win, to feed and go. There would be no quick end like I'd been counting on. My knees began to shake, and I was afraid I was going to fall.

He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start.

Then he slumped forward, into a crouch I recognized, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn't a smile at all but a contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening.

I couldn't help myself- I tried to run. As useless as I knew it would be, as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted for the emergency door.

He was in front of me in a flash. I didn't see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest - I felt myself flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering on the floor beside me.

I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn't breathe yet.

He walked toward me slowly.

"That's a very nice effect," he said, examining the mess of glass, her voice friendly again. "I thought this room would be visually dramatic for my little film. That's why I picked this place to meet you. It's perfect, isn't it?"

I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the other door.

He was over me at once, her foot stepping down hard on my leg. I heard the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I did feel it, and I couldn't hold back my scream of agony. I twisted up to reach for my leg, and he was standing over me, smiling.

"Would you like to rethink your last request?" he asked pleasantly. His toe nudged my broken leg and I heard a piercing scream. Through my numb shock, I realized it was mine.

"Wouldn't you rather have Edythe try to find me?" she prompted.

"No!" I croaked. "No, Edythe, don't-" And then something smashed into my face, throwing me back into the broken mirrors.

Over the pain of my leg, I felt the sharp rip across my scalp where the glass cut into it. And then the warm wetness began to spread through my hair with alarming speed. I could feel it soaking the shoulder of my shirt, hear it dripping on the wood below. The smell of it twisted my stomach.

Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden, final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an uncontrollable need. The blood - spreading crimson across my white shirt, pooling rapidly on the floor - was driving him mad with thirst. No matter his original intentions, he couldn't draw this out much longer.

Let it be quick now, was all I could hope. The blood pouring down my face wasn’t enough to obscure my vision. I could see the tracker’s nostrils flare, his eyes wild, his teeth bared. His mouth opened wide, wider, and I knew this was it. I instinctively threw a hand up over my face and waited, screaming.


	24. The Choice

Another scream cut on top of mine--a shriek like a chainsaw cutting through rebar. The hunter lunged at that moment and I felt a sharp pain slashing my upraised hand, but as my own scream grew shriller and shriller, I noticed that the hunter hadn’t gotten any closer. Something had grabbed her and now yanked her back and flung her out of my sight.

I wasn’t alone--there were others screaming--the metallic sound was joined by a high keening that bounced off the walls and then cut off suddenly. A thrumming sound was grinding underneath the others. More metal tearing, shredding...

"No!” someone howled in an agony to match mine. “No, Bella, no!" 

I knew this voice. It meant something to me, even through the burning that coursed its way through my veins. Through the flames that had spread from my hand to my shoulder, now, and continued to spread. Through all that agony, this voice still claimed my attention. Even screaming, my Edythe sounded like an angel.

"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!" she begged.

Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.

"Carine!" the angel called, agony in her perfect voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And she was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.

Edythe shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find her, to tell her everything was fine, but there was fire where my lips used to be.

Edythe was cradling my head in her lap, and her fingers were pressing hard against my scalp. Her face was out of focus, like the rest of the room. I was falling down a tunnel in my head. The fire was coming with me, though, just as sharp as before.

Something cool blew into my mouth, filling my lungs. My lungs pushed back. Another cool breath. Edythe raised her head from mine and was slightly more in focus than she had been before.

“Just keep breathing, Bella, okay? Do this for me. Breathe.”

She put her lips against mine and filled my lungs again.

There was movement at the edges of my vision, and not the tunnel this time--another set of cold hands.

"She's lost some blood, but the head wound isn't deep," a calm voice said. "Watch out for her leg, it's broken."

A howl of rage strangled on my angel's lips.

"Some ribs, too, I think," the methodical voice continued. “Alex, hold your breath, it will help.”

These pains were nothing, nothing compared to the fire that spread from my hand.

"Edythe." I tried to tell her, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I couldn't understand myself.

"Bella, you're going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I love you."

"Edythe," I tried again. My voice was a little clearer.

"Yes, I'm here."

"My hand," I whimpered.

"I know, Bella. Carine will give you something, it will stop."

"My hand,” I gasped, and Bella drew away from my face and turned toward my hand. I couldn’t feel her cold hands on my skin--the fire fire was too hot. But I heard her gasp.”

"Carine! Her hand!"

"He bit her." Carine's voice was no longer calm, it was appalled.

I heard Edythe catch her breath in horror.

"Edythe, you have to do it." It was Alex's voice, close by my head. Cool fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes.

"No!" she bellowed.

"Alex," I moaned.

"There may be a chance," Carine said.

"What?" Edythe begged.

"See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean." As Carine spoke, I could feel more pressure on my head, something poking and pulling at my scalp. The pain of that was lost in the pain of the fire.

"Will that work?" Alex's voice was strained.

"I don't know," Carine said. "But we have to hurry."

"Carine, I..." Edythe hesitated. "I don't know if I can do that." There was agony in her beautiful voice again.

"It's your decision, Edythe, either way. I can't help you. I have to get this bleeding stopped here if you're going to be taking blood from her hand."

I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement making the pain in my leg flare sickeningly.

"Edythe!" I screamed. I realized my eyes were closed again. I opened them, desperate to find her face. And I found her. Finally, I could see her perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and pain.

"Alex, get me something to brace her leg!" Carine was bent over me, working on my head. "Edythe, you must do it now, or it will be too late."

Edythe's face was drawn. I watched her eyes as the doubt was suddenly replaced with a blazing determination. Her jaw tightened. I felt her cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then her head bent over it, and her cold lips pressed against my skin.

I screamed again. I couldn’t help it. It was like she was pulling the fire back down my arm.

“Edythe,” Alex said.

Edythe didn’t react, her lips still pressed to my hand. The fire warred up and down my arm, sawing back and forth. Moans escaped through my clenched lips.

“Edythe,” Alex shouted, “ _ look! _ ”

“What is it, Alex,” I heard Carine ask.

Alex’s hand shot out and slapped Edythe’s cheek.

“Stop it, Edythe! Stop it right now!”

Through the fire, I could feel my hand drop away from Edythe’s face and back onto the floor. Edythe looked at Alex with her eyes so wide they seemed to be half of her face. She gasped.

“Alex!” Carine barked.

“It’s too late,” Alex said. “We got here too late.”

“You can see it?” Carine said in a more subdued voice.

“There are only two futures left, Carine. One in which she survives as one of us, and one in which Edythe kills her trying to stop it from happening.”

“No,” Edythe moaned.

Carine was quiet. The tugging against my scalp slowed.

Edythe dropped her face back to mine. She kissed my eyelids, my cheeks, my lips. “I’m sorry, Bella. I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t need to be this slow,” Alex complained. “Carine?”

“I made an oath, Alex.”

“I didn’t”, Alex snarled.

“Wait!” Edythe said, her head snapping up. “She deserves a choice.”

Her lips were at my hear. I tried to push back the fire, swallow my screams, so I could hear her speak.

“Bella? I won’t make this decision for you. I won’t take this away from you. And I’ll understand, I promise, Bella, if you decide you don’t want to live like this. I won’t fight you. I’ll respect what you want. I know it’s a horrible choice--I would have given you another option, any other option, if I could. I would die if I could give your life back to you.” Her voice broke. “But I can’t. I can’t make that trade. I can’t do anything but stop the pain, if that’s what you want. You don’t have to be  _ this _ . I can let you go--if that’s what you want.” It sounded like she was sobbing again. “Tell me what you want, Bella. Anything.”

“You,” I gasped through the flames. “Just you.”

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” she whispered.

I groaned. I could feel the fire spreading, consuming more and more of my body. “Yes,” I coughed out. “You.”

“Out of my way, Edythe,” Alex growled.

Her voice lashed back like a whip. “I didn’t make any oaths, either.”

Her face was at my throat, and I couldn’t feel anything besides the fire, and I couldn’t hear anything beside the quiet sound of her teeth cutting through my skin.”


	25. Change

I ended up changing my mind.

The fire in my arm wasn’t really so bad--the worst thing I’d ever felt up to that point, yes, but the memory of that pain was alleviated by sensation that my whole body was on fire.

I begged her to make it stop. I told her that this was all I really wanted--for the burning to end. Nothing else. I wanted death more than I wanted her, for that time.

I heard Alex telling Edythe that everyone had said the same thing--reminding her that she’d begged Carine to kill her, too. Telling her that my first decision was the one that counted.

I remember at one point screaming at Alex to shut up.

I think they apologized.

But mostly it was hard to pay attention to what was happening outside of the fire. I know they moved me. It seemed like I was on the bloody, vomit-covered wood floor for a long time, but it was hard to judge time like that. Sometimes Carine would say something and it would feel like a year had passed before Alex answered her, but that was probably just the fire that made seconds into years.

And then someone carried me. I saw the sun for another year-long second--it looked pale and cool. The everything was dark. It was dark for a long, long time.

I could still see Edythe. She held me in her arms, my face near hers, one of her hands on my cheek. Alex was nearby, too. I think they had my legs.

When I screamed, she apologized, over and over. I tried not to scream, but it didn’t do any good. I couldn’t stop. And there wasn’t any relief when I did scream, no release in it. The fire didn’t care what I did. It just burned.

When my eyes were in focus, I could see dim lights moving across Edythe’s face, though all around her it was just black. Aside from her voice and mine, the only sound was a deep, constant thrumming. Sometimes it got louder, and then it was quiet again.

I didn’t realize I was in the back of the black car until it stopped. I didn’t hear the door open, but the sudden flash of light was blinding. I must have recoiled from it, because Edythe crooned in my ear,

“We’re just stopping to refill the gas tank. We’ll be home soon, Bella. You’re doing so well. This will be over soon. I am so, so sorry.”

I couldn’t feel her hand against my face--it should have been cool, but nothing was cool anymore. I tried to reach for it, but I couldn’t exactly tell what my limbs were doing. I think I was thrashing some, but Edythe and Alex kept my limbs contained. Edythe guessed what I wanted, though. She grabbed my hand and held it to her lips. I wished I could feel it. I tried to grip her and without knowing how to make the muscles move, or being able to feel them. Maybe I got it right. She didn’t let go.

It got darker. Eventually, I couldn’t see her anymore. It as black as ink inside the car--there was no difference between having my eyes open or closed. I started to panic. The fire made the light feel like a sensory deprivation chamber; I couldn’t feel anything but pain--not the seat beneath me, not Alex at my feet, not Edythe holding my head, my hand. I was alone with the burning, and I was terrified. 

I don’t know what I must have gasped out--my voice was totally gone now, either raw from screaming or burned past usability, I couldn’t guess which--but Edythe's voice was in my ear again.

“I’m right here, Bella. You’re not alone. I won’t leave you. I will be here. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you…”

Her voice calmed me--made the panic go away, if not the pain. I listened, keeping  my breathing shallow so I could hear her better. I didn’t need to scream anymore. The burning only got more, never less, but I was adapting. It was all I could feel, but not all I could think about.

“I never wanted this for you, Bella,” Edythe continued. “I would give anything to make this go away. I’ve made so many mistakes. I should have stayed away from  you, from the first day. I should never have come back again. I’ve destroyed your life. I’ve taken everything from you…” It sounded like she was crying again.

“No,” I tried to say, but I’m not sure if I even shaped the word with my mouth.

“She’s probably far enough along that she’ll remember this,” Alex said softly.

“I hope so,” Edythe said, her voice breaking.

“I’m just saying, you might want to use the time more productively. There’s so much she doesn’t know.”

“You’re right,” Edythe sighed. “Where do I begin?”

“You could explain about being thirsty,” Alex suggested. “That was the hardest part, when I first woke up. And we’ll be expecting a lot from her.”

When Edythe answered, it was like she was spitting the words through her teeth. “I won’t hold her to that, to  _ this _ . Bella didn’t choose this. She’s free to become whatever she wants to be.”

“Hah,” Alex said. “You know her better than that, Edythe. The other way won’t be good enough for her. Don’t you see? She’ll be fine.”

It was quiet while Edythe tuned in to whatever Alex was seeing inside their head. Though I  understood the silence, it still left me alone in the fire. I started panicking again. It was just me, and the flames, and the pain, and the unknown--

“I’m here, Bella. I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” Edythe took a deep breath. “I’ll keep talking. Alex is right, there are so many things to tell you. The first is that when this passes, when you’re...new, you won’t be exactly the same I am now, not in the very beginning. Being a young vampire means certain things, and the hardest to ignore is the thirst. You’ll be thirsty--all the time. You won’t be able to think of much else for a while. Maybe a year, maybe two. It’s different for everyone. As soon as this is over, I’ll take you hunting. You wanted to see that, didn’t you? We’ll bring Eleanor so you can hear see her bear impression--” she laughed once, a damaged little sound. “If you decide--if you want to live like us, it will be hard. Especially in the beginning. It might be too hard, and I understand that. We all do. If you want to try it my way, I’ll go with you. I can tell you who the human monsters are. There are options. Whatever you want. If...if you don’t want me, I’ll understand that too, Bella. I swear I won’t follow you if you tell me not to--”

“No,” I gasped, and I heard myself so I knew I’d done it right this time.

“You don’t have to make any more decisions now. There’s time for that. Just know that I will respect any decision you make.” She took another deep breath. “I should probably warn you about your eyes. THey won’t be blue anymore.” Another half-sob, half-laugh. “But don’t let them frighten you. They won’t stay so bright for very long.

“I suppose that’s a very small thing, though, and I should focus on more important things. The hard things--the very worst thing. Oh, I’m so sorry, Bella. You can’t see your mother or your father again. It’s not safe. You would hurt them--you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. And..there are rules. Rules that, as your creator, I’m bound by. We’d both be held responsible if you ran out of control. Oh--” Her breath caught. “There’s so much she doesn’t know, Alex.”

“We’ve got time, Edythe. Just relax. Take it slow.”

I heard her inhale again. “Right. Okay. Ready to learn a new world history, Bella?”

She talked all night without a break, until the sun came up and I could see her face again. She told me stories that sounded like dark fairy tales. I was beginning to grasp the edges of how big this world was, but I knew it would be a long time before I fully comprehended the size of it.

She told me about the people I’d seen in the painting with Carine--the Volturi. She said that the Volturi were the ones who’d made up all the stories about crosses and holy water and mirrors. Over the century, they made all the reports of vampires into myth. And now the continued to keep it that way. Vampires would stay in the shadows...or there would be consequences.

So I couldn’t go to my dad’s house and let him see the eyes that Edythe said would be  _ bright _ . I couldn’t drive to Florida and hug my mom and let her know that I wasn’t dead. I couldn’t even call her and explain the confusing message i’d left on her answering machine. If there was anything in the news, if any rumor spread that something unnatural was involved, the Volturi soldiers might come to investigate.

I had to disappear  _ quietly _ .

The fire hurt more than hearing these things. But I knew that it wouldn’t always be the way it was. Soon, this would hurt the most.

Edythe told me how the Cullens lived--how they moved from cloudy place to cloudy place. Esme, who had developed a lot of carpentry skills over the years, would restore a house for them. Alex would invest their assets with amazingly good returns. They would decide on a story to explain their relationships to one another, and Jamie would create new names and documented pasts for each of them. Carine would take a job in a hospital with her new credentials, or she’d return to school to study a new field.

After my time as a new vampire was up, I would be able to go back to school. But my education wouldn’t have to wait. I had a lot of time ahead of me, and I would remember everything I read or heard.

I would never sleep again.

I would never get sick. I would never feel tired.

I would be able to run faster than a race car, be stronger than any living species on the planet.

I wouldn’t need to breathe.

I would be able to see more clearly, hear more acutely.

My heart would finish beating tomorrow, or the next day, and it would never beat again.

I would be a vampire.

One good thing about the burning--it let me hear all this with some distance. It let me process what she was telling me without emotion. I knew the emotion would come later.

When it was starting to get dark again, our journey was over. Edythe carried me into the house like I was a child, and sat with me in the big room. The background behind her face went from black to white. I could see her much more clearly now, and I didn’t think it was just the light.

She told me stories to fill the time, and the others took turns helping her. Carine sat on the ground next to me and told me the most amazing stories about Julie Black’s family--that her great-grandmother had actually been a  _ werewolf _ . All those stores Jules had scoffed about were true.

Jamie told me their story after all. I guess they’d decided I was ready now. They told me of the army they’d belonged to, a life of carnage and death, and of breaking free. They told me about the day Alex had let Jamie find them. Esme told of her life, before she’d tried to kill herself--her unstable, alcoholic wife and the daughter she’d loved more than her own soul. She told me that when her wife, in a drunken rampage, had jumped off a cliff with their daughter in her hands, the only thing Esme had been able to do was follow. And then, after the pain--the same pain I was feeling now--there had been the most beautiful woman in a nurse’s uniform.

Eleanor told me about being attacked by a bear, and then seeing an angel who took her to Carine instead of to heaven. She also told me that the redhead had gotten away. She’d never come near Charlie after that one time she’d searched Charlie’s house. When we’d all gotten back to Forks, she, Rosalie, and Jamie had followed the woman’s trial as far as they could, but it disappeared into the Salish Sea and they hadn’t been able find the place where she came out. For all they knew, she could have swum straight through the Pacific and on to another continent. She must have assumed that James had lost the fight and realized it would be smarter to disappear.

Even Rosalie took a turn. She was the least careful with her words. She told me about losing her family, and how none of this was worth what it had cost. Edythe had whispered Eleanor’s name, and Rosalie growled once and left.

At some point during that, Alex must have watched the video from the dance studio. When Rosalie left, Alex took her spot. At first I wasn’t sure what Alex and Edythe were talking about, but eventually I caught up. Alex was searching right there on their laptop, trying to figure out where they might have been kept during their human life. I was glad they weren’t saying anything else about the video, and I hoped they were smart enough to have destroyed the tape before Edythe could watch.

The stories helped me to think of other things, prepare myself, while the fire burned, but I was only able to pay partial attention. My mind was cataloguing the fire, experiencing it in new ways. It was amazing how each inch of my skin, each millimeter, was so distinct. It was like I could feel all of my cells burning individually. I could feel the difference between the pain in the walls of my lung and in the bands of muscle that moved between my ribs. The pain in the soles of my feet was different from that of the bones of my feet, and the tops. All the different agonies clearly separated.

I could hear my heart thudding--it seemed so loud. Like it had been hooked to an amp. I could hear other things, too, besides my heart and the others’ voices. Once I heard music, but I didn’t know where it was coming from.

It seemed like I was on the couch, my head in Edythe’s lap, for several years. The lights stayed bright, so I didn’t know if it was night or day. But Edythe’s eyes were always gold, so I guessed the fire was lying about the time again.

I was so aware of every nerve ending in my body that I knew immediately when something changed.

It started with my toes. I couldn’t feel them. It seemed like the fire had finally won, and bits of me had simply burned away to ash. Edythe had said I was changing, not dying,  but in this moment of panic I thought she’d gotten it wrong. Maybe this vampire thing wouldn’t work on me, and all the burning was the slowest, most painful way to die.

And then I realized that my toes were still there, they just weren’t burning anymore. In fact, the fire was pulling out of the soles of my feet, too. I was glad I had made sense of what was happening, because my fingertips were next. The fire, I hoped, was leaving.

But it wasn’t leaving, it was...moving. All the fire that receded from my extremities seemed to be draining into the center of my body, stoking the blaze there so it was hotter than ever before. I didn’t even know  _ hotter _ was possible.

My heart, already so loud, started beating faster. The fire seemed to be centered there. Everything that receded from my hands and feet piled onto my heart, multiplying the pain and heat.

“Carine,” Edythe called.

Carien walked into the room, and the most amazing part about that was that I  _ heard _ her. Edythe and her family never made any noise when they moved. But now, if I listened, I could not only hear Carine’s voice but the low sound of her lips, brushing together as she spoke.

“Ah. It’s almost over.”

I wanted to be relieved, but the relentless, agonizing pain in my chest made it impossible to feel anything else. I stared up at Edythe’s face. She was more beautiful than she had ever been, because I could see her better than I ever had. But I couldn’t really appreciate that now. There was so much pain.

“Edythe?” I gasped.

“You’re all right, Bella. It’s ending. I’m sorry. I know, I remember.”

The fire ripped hotter through my heart, dragging the flames from my elbows and knees. I thought about Edythe going through this, suffering in this way, and it put a perspective on my pain. She didn’t even know Carine then. She didn’t know what was happening to her. She hadn’t been held the whole time in the arms of someone she loved.

The pain was almost gone from everywhere but my chest. The only leftover was my throat, but it was a different kind of burn now...drier...irritating…

I heard more footsteps, and I could even tell them apart now. Eleanor, Alex, and Esme walked into the room. Jamie stopped at the doorway, and I thought I heard Rosalie breathing behind them.

And then--

“Aaah!”

My heart took off, beating like helicopter blades, the sound almost a single, sustained note. It felt like it would grind through my ribs. The fire flared up in the center of my chest, sucking all the flames from the rest of my body to fuel the most painful burn yet. It was enough to stun me. My body bowed like the fire was dragging me upward by my heart. It felt like a war inside me--my racing heart against the raging fire. They were both losing.

The fire constricted tighter, concentrating into one fist-sized ball of pain with a final, unbearable surge. The surge was answered by a deep, hollow-sounding thud. My heart stuttered twice, then thudded quietly one last time.

There was no sound. No breathing. Not even mine.

For a second, all I could process was the absence of pain. The dull, dry afterburn in my throat was easy to ignore, because every other part of me felt amazing. The release was an incredible high. 

I stared up at Edythe in wonder. I felt like I’d taken off a blindfold I’d been wearing all my life. What a view.

“Bella?” she asked. Now that I could really concentrate on it, the beauty of her voice was unreal.

“It’s disorienting, I know. You get used to it.”

Could you get used to hearing a voice like this? Seeing a face like that?

“Edythe,” I said, and the sound of my own voice jolted me. Was that me? It didn’t sound like me. It didn’t sound… human.

Unnerved, I reached out to touch her cheek. In the same instant that the desire to touch her entered my mind, my hand was cradling the side of her face. There was no in-between—no process of lifting my hand, watching it move to its destination. It was just there.

“Huh.”

She leaned into my touch, put her hand over mine, and held it against her face. It was strange because it was familiar—I’d always loved it when she’d done that, to see that she so obviously liked it when I touched her, that it meant something to her. But it was also nothing the same. Her face wasn’t cold anymore, or her hand. There was no difference between us now.

I stared into her eyes, then looked closer at the picture reflected in them.

“Ahh…” A little gasp escaped my throat by accident, and I felt my body lock down in surprise. It was weird—it felt like the natural thing to do, to be a statue because I was shocked.

“What is it, Bella?” She leaned closer, concerned, but that just brought the reflection closer.

“The eyes?” I breathed.

She sighed, and wrinkled her nose. “It goes away,” she promised. “I terrified myself every time I looked in a mirror for six months.”

“Six months,” I murmured. “And then they’ll be gold like yours?”

She looked away, over the back of the couch, to someone standing there behind us where I couldn’t see. I wanted to sit up and look around, but I was a little afraid to move. My body felt so strange.

“That depends on your diet, Bella,” Carine said calmly. “If you hunt like we do, your eyes will eventually turn this color. If not, your eyes will look like Lauren’s did.”

I decided to try sitting up.

And like before, thinking was doing. Without any conscious movement, I was upright. Edythe kept my hand in hers as it left her face.

Behind the sofa, they were all there, watching. I’d been one hundred percent with my guesses—Carine closest, then Eleanor, Alex, and Esme. Jamie in the doorway to another room with Rosalie watching over her shoulder.

I looked at their faces, shocked again. If my brain hadn’t been so much… roomier than before, I would have forgotten what I was about to say. As it was, I recovered pretty fast.

“No, I want to do it your way,” I said to Carine. “That’s the right thing to do.”

Carine smiled. It would have knocked the breath out of me if I’d had to breathe.

“If only it were so easy. But that’s a noble choice. We’ll help you all we can.”

Edythe touched my arm. “We should hunt now, Bella. It will make your throat hurt less.”

When she mentioned my throat, the dry burn there was suddenly at the forefront of my mind. I swallowed. But…

“Hunt?” my new voice asked. “I, uh, well, I’ve never been hunting before. Not even like normal hunting with rifles, so I don’t really think I could… I mean, I have no idea how.…”

Eleanor chuckled under her breath.

Edythe smiled. “I’ll show you. It’s very easy, very natural. Didn’t you want to see me hunt?”

“Just us?” I checked.

She looked confused for a fraction of a second, and then her face was smooth. “Of course. Whatever you want. Come with me, Bella.”

And she was on her feet, still holding my hand. Then I was on my feet, too, and it was so simple to move, I wondered why I’d been afraid to try. Anything I wanted this body to do, it did.

She darted to the back wall of the big room—the glass wall that was a mirror now because it was night outside. I saw the two pale figures flashing by and I stopped. The strange thing was that when I stopped, it was so sudden that Edythe kept going, still holding my hand, and though she was still pulling, I didn’t move. My grip on her hand pulled  _ her _ back. Like it was nothing.

But I was only noticing that with part of my brain. Mostly I was looking at my reflection.

I’d seen my face warped around the convex shape of her eyes, just the center, lacking the edges. I’d only really seen my eyes—brilliant, almost glowing  _ red _ —and that had been enough to pull my focus. Now I saw my whole face—my neck, my arms.

If someone had cut an outline of my human self, this version would still fit into that space. But though I took up the same volume, all the angles were different. Harder, more pronounced. Like someone had made an ice sculpture of me and left the edges sharp.

My eyes—it was hard to look around the color, but the shape of them, too, seemed different. So vaguely, like I was remembering something I’d seen only through muddy water—I remembered how my eyes used to look. Undecided. Like I was never sure who I was. Then, after Edythe—still so hard to see in my memory, uncomfortable to try—they were suddenly more resolved.

These eyes had gone one step further than resolved—they were  _ savage _ . If I walked into this self in a dark alley, I would be terrified of me.

Which was the point, I guess. People were supposed to be afraid of me now.

I still wore my bloodstained jeans, but I had an unfamiliar, pale blue shirt on. I didn’t remember that happening, but I could understand; vampire or human, no one wanted to hang around with someone drenched in vomit.

“Whoa,” I said. I locked eyes with Edythe in the reflection.

This was strange, too. Because the Bella in the mirror looked…  _ right _ next to Edythe. Like she belonged. Not like before, when people could only imagine that she was taking pity on me.

“It’s a lot,” she said.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

She pulled on my hand again, and I followed. Before a fourth of a second had passed, we were through the glass doors behind the stairs and on the back lawn.

There were no moon and no stars—the clouds were too thick. It should have been pitch-black outside the rectangle of light shining through the glass wall, but it wasn’t. I could see  _ everything _ .

“ _ Whoa _ ,” I said again. “That is  _ so _ cool.”

Edythe looked at me like she was surprised by my reaction. Had she forgotten what it was like the first time she saw the world through vampire eyes? I thought she’d said I wouldn’t forget things anymore.

“We’re going to have to go a ways out into the woods,” she told me. “Just in case.”

I remembered the gist of what she’d told me about hunting. “Right. So there aren’t any people around. Got it.”

Again—that same surprised look flashed across her face and then was gone.

“Follow me,” she said.

She whipped down the lawn so fast that I knew she would have been invisible to my old eyes. Then, at the edge of the river, she launched herself into a high arc that spun her over the river and into the trees beyond.

“Really?” I called after her.

I heard her laugh. “I promise, it’s easy.”

Great.

I sighed, then started running.

Running had never been my forte. I was all right on a flat track, if I was paying enough attention and I kept my eyes on my feet. Okay, honestly, even then I was still able to tangle my feet up and go down.

This was so different. I was flying— _ flying _ down the lawn, faster than I’d ever moved, but it was only too simple to put my feet exactly where they were supposed to go. I could feel all of my muscles, almost see the connections as they worked together, will them to do exactly what I needed. When I got to the edge of the river I didn’t even pause. I pushed off the same rock she’d used, and then I was  _ really _ flying. The river slipped away behind me as I rocketed through the air. I passed where she’d landed and then fell down into the wood.

I felt an instant of panic when I realized I hadn’t even considered the landing, but then my hand already seemed to know how to catch a thick branch and angle my body so that my feet hit the ground with barely a sound.

“Wow,” I breathed in total disbelief.

I heard Edythe running through the trees, and already her gait was as familiar to me as the sound of my own breathing. I was sure I could tell the difference between the sound of her footfalls and anyone else’s.

“We have to do that again!” I said as soon as I saw her.

She paused a few feet away from me, and a frustrated expression that I knew well crossed her face.

I laughed. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. You’re… in a very good mood.”

“Oh. Is that wrong?”

“Aren’t you incredibly thirsty?”

I swallowed against the burn. It was bad, but not as bad as the rest of the fire I’d just left behind. The thirst-burn was always there, and it got worse when I focused on it, but there were so many other things to focus on. “Yes, when I think about it.”

Edythe squared her shoulders. “If you want to do this first, that’s fine, too.”

I looked at her. I was obviously missing something. “Do this? Do what?”

She stared at me for a second, her eyes doubtful. Suddenly she threw her hands up. “You know, I really thought that when your mind was more similar to mine, I’d be able to hear it. I guess that’s never going to happen.”

“Sorry.”

She laughed, but there was an unhappy note in the sound. “Honestly, Bella.”

“Can you please give me a clue as to what we’re talking about?”

“You wanted us to be alone,” she said, like this was an explanation.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Because you had some things you wanted to say to me?” She braced her shoulders again, tensing like she was expecting something bad.

“Oh. Well, I guess there are things to say. I mean, there’s one important thing, but I wasn’t thinking about that.” Seeing how frustrated she was by whatever misunderstanding was happening, I was totally honest. “I wanted to be alone with you because… well, I didn’t want to be rude, but I also didn’t want to do this hunting thing in front of Eleanor,” I confessed. “I figured there was a good chance I would screw something up, and I don’t know Eleanor all that well yet, but I have a feeling she would find that pretty funny.”

Her eyes got wide. “You were afraid Eleanor would laugh at you? Really, that’s all?”

“Really. Your turn, Edythe. What did you think was happening?”

She hesitated. “I thought you were being polite. I thought you preferred to yell at me alone rather than in front of my family.”

I froze up again. I wondered if that was going to happen every time I was surprised. It took me a second to thaw out.

“Yell at you?” I repeated. “Edythe—oh! You’re talking about all that stuff you were saying in the car, right? Sorry about that, I—”

“ _ Sorry? _ What  _ on earth _ are you apologizing for now, Bella Swan?”

She looked angry. Angry and so beautiful. I couldn’t guess why she was worked up. I shrugged. “I wanted to tell you then, but I couldn’t. I mean, I couldn’t even really concentrate—”

“Of  _ course _ you couldn’t concentrate—”

“Edythe!” I crossed the space between us in one invisibly fast stride and put my hands on her shoulders. “You’ll never know what I’m thinking if you keep interrupting me.”

The self-recrimination on her face faded as she deliberately calmed herself. Then she nodded.

“Okay,” I said. “In the car—I wanted to tell you then that you didn’t need to apologize, I felt horrible that you were so sad. This isn’t your fault—”

She started to say something, so I put my finger over her lips.

“And it isn’t all bad,” I continued. “I’m… well, my head is still spinning and I know there are a million things to think about and I’m sad, of course, but I’m also good, Edythe. I’m always good when I’m with you.”

She stared at me for a long minute. Slowly, she raised her hand to pull my finger away from her mouth. I didn’t stop her.

“You aren’t angry at me for what I’ve done to you?” she asked quietly.

“Edythe, you saved my life! Again. Why would I be angry? Because of the  _ way _ you saved it? What else could you have done?”

She exhaled, almost like she was mad again. “How can you…? Bella, you  _ have _ to see that this is all my fault. I haven’t saved your life, I’ve taken it from you. Charlie—Renée—”

I put my finger over her mouth again, and then took a deep breath. “Yes. It’s hard, and it’s going to be hard for a long time. Maybe forever, right? But why would I put that on you? James is the one who… well, who killed me. You brought me back to life.”

She pushed my hand down. “If I hadn’t involved you in my world—”

I laughed, and she looked up at me like I’d lost my mind. “Edythe—if you hadn’t involved me in your world, Charlie and Renée would have lost me three months earlier.”

She stared, frowning. It was obvious she wasn’t accepting any of this.

“Do you remember what I said when you saved my life in Port Angeles? The second time, or third.” I barely did. The words were easier to bring back than the images. I knew it went something like this. “That you were messing with fate because my number was up? Well… if I  _ had _ to die, Edythe… isn’t this the most amazing way to do it?”

A long minute passed while she stared at me, and then she shook her head. “Bella,  _ you _ are amazing.”

“I guess I am now.”

“You always have been.”

I didn’t say anything, and my face gave me away. Or she was just that good. She knew my face so well, she spent so much time trying so hard to understand me, that she knew immediately when there was something I wasn’t saying.

“What is it, Bella?”

“Just… something James said.” I winced. Though it was hard to see things in my old memory, the dance studio was the most recent, the most vivid.

Edythe’s jaw got hard. “He said a lot of things,” she hissed.

“Oh.” Suddenly I wanted to punch something. But I also didn’t want to let go of Edythe to do that. “You saw the tape.”

Her face was totally white. Furious and agonized at the same time. “Yes, I saw the tape.”

“When? I didn’t hear—”

“Headphones.”

“I wish you hadn’t—”

She shook her head. “I had to. But forget that now. Which lie were you thinking of?” She spit the words through her teeth.

It took me a minute. “You didn’t want me to be a vampire.”

“No, I absolutely did not.”

“So that part wasn’t a lie. And you’ve been so upset.… I know you feel bad about Charlie and my mom, but I guess I’m worried that part of it is because, well, you didn’t expect to have me around very long, you weren’t planning for that—” Her mouth flew open so fast that I put my whole hand over it. “Because if that’s what it is, don’t worry. If you want me to go away after a while, I can. You can show me what to do so I won’t get either of us in trouble. I don’t expect you to put up with me forever. You didn’t choose this any more than I did. I want you to know that I’m aware of that.”

She waited for me to move my hand. I did it slowly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what was next.

She growled softly and flashed her teeth at me— _ not _ in a smile.

“You’re lucky I didn’t bite you,” she said. “The next time you put your hand on my mouth to say something so completely idiotic—and  _ insulting _ —I  _ will _ .”

“Sorry.”

She closed her eyes. Her arms wrapped around my waist and she leaned her head against my chest. My arms wound around her automatically. She tilted her face up so that she could look at me.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Bella. This—having you with me, getting to keep you here—it’s like I’ve been granted every selfish wish I’ve ever had. But the price for everything I want was to take the exact same thing away from you. All of your life. I’m angry with myself, I’m disappointed in myself. And I wish so much that I could bring that tracker back to life so that I could kill him myself, over and over and over again.

“The reason I didn’t want you to be a vampire wasn’t because you weren’t  _ special _ enough—it was because you are too special and you deserve more. I wanted you to have what we all miss—a human life. But you have to know, if it were only about me, if there were no price for you to pay, then tonight would be the best night of my life. I’ve been staring forever in the face for a century, and tonight is the very first time it’s looked beautiful to me. Because of you.

“Don’t you ever again think that I don’t want you. I will always want you. I don’t deserve you, but I will always love you. Are we clear?”

It was obvious that she was being totally sincere. Truth echoed in every word.

A huge grin spread across my new face. “So that’s okay, then.”

She smiled back. “I’d say so.”

“That was the one important thing I wanted to say—just, I love you. I always will. I knew that from pretty early in. So, with that being how things are, I think we can work the rest out.”

I held her face in my hands and leaned in to kiss her. Like everything else, this was so easy now. Nothing to worry about, no hesitation.

It felt strange, though, that my heart wasn’t beating out a crazy drum solo, that the blood wasn’t stampeding through my veins. But  _ something _ was zinging through me like electricity, every nerve in my body alive. More than alive—like all of my cells were rejoicing. I only wanted to hold her like this and I would need nothing else for the next hundred years.

But she broke away, and she was laughing. This time her laugh was full of joy. It sounded like singing.

“How are you  _ doing _ this?” she laughed. “You’re supposed to be a newborn vampire and here you are, discussing the future calmly with me, smiling at me,  _ kissing _ me! You’re supposed to be thirsty and nothing else.”

“I’m a lot of  _ else _ ,” I said. “But I am pretty thirsty, now that you mention it.”

She leaned up on her toes and kissed me once, hard. “I love you. Let’s go hunt.”

We ran together into the darkness that wasn’t dark, and I was unafraid. This would be easy, I knew, just like everything else.

 


	26. Epilogue: An Occasion

“Are you sure this was a good idea? she asked.

“I should be here.”

“Tell me if it gets to be too much.”

I nodded.

We were a hundred feet up in the branches of a tall hemlock, sitting side by side on a thick bough. I had my arm around her and she held my other hand in both of hers. I could feel her eyes on my face. Worried.

The branch swayed under us in the wind.

About two miles away, a caravan of cars was driving up Calawah Way with all their headlights on, though it was daytime. We were southeast and upwind, carefully situated so that we wouldn’t be close to any people. It was too far for Edythe to be able to hear much of what anyone was thinking, but that was okay. I was sure I’d be able to guess most of it.

The first car was the hearse. Right behind it was the familiar cruiser. My mom was in the passenger seat, and Phil was in the back. I recognized almost everyone in the cars that followed.

I couldn’t watch the actual funeral—it had been held inside a church building. The graveside service would have to be enough.

The hearse was overkill. There hadn’t been enough of the body that they’d found inside the burned-out shell of my truck to need a casket. If I’d been able to consult with my parents, I would have told them not to waste the money and just get an urn. But I guess if it made them feel better… Maybe they really wanted a grave to visit.

I’d seen where they were putting me—or what they thought was me. The hole was dug yesterday, right beside Grandma and Grandpa Swan. They’d both died when I was little, so I hadn’t known them well. I hoped they didn’t mind having a stranger next to them.

I didn’t know the stranger’s name. I hadn’t wanted to know every detail about how Alex and Eleanor had faked my death. I just knew that someone roughly my size who had been recently interred had taken one last trip. I assumed that all the identifiers had been destroyed—teeth, prints, etc. I felt pretty bad for the person, but I suppose they didn’t mind. They hadn’t felt anything when the truck veered into a ravine somewhere in Nevada and burst into flames. Their family had already mourned. They had a tombstone with the person’s name on it. Like my parents had now.

Charlie and my mom were both pallbearers. Even from this distance, I could see that Charlie looked twenty years older and my mom moved like she was sleepwalking. If she hadn’t had the casket to hold on to, I’m not sure she would have been able to walk in a straight line across the cemetery lawn. I recognized the black dress she was wearing—she’d bought it for a formal party and then decided it aged her; she’d ended up going to the party in red. Charlie wore a suit I’d never seen before. I would guess it was old rather than new—it didn’t look like it would button, and his tie was a little too wide.

Phil helped, too, and Angela and her dad, Reverend Weber. Jessica walked behind Angela. Even Bonnie Black held on to one of the brass handles while Jules pushed her chair.

In the crowd, I saw almost every person I knew from school. Most were in black, and lots of them were holding each other and crying. It kind of surprised me—I didn’t know many of them very well. I guessed they were just crying because it was sad in general, someone dying when they were only seventeen. It probably made them think about their own mortality and all of that.

One group of people stood out—Carine, Esme, Alex, Jamie, Rosalie, and Eleanor, all in light gray. They held themselves straighter than anyone else, and even from a distance their skin was obviously different… at least to a vampire’s eyes.

It all seemed to take a really long time. Lowering the casket, the reverend giving some kind of speech—a sermon?—my mom and dad each throwing a flower into the hole after the casket, everyone awkwardly forming the obligatory line to speak to my parents. I wished they would let my mom leave. She was sagging into Phil, and I knew she needed to lie down. Charlie was holding up better, but he looked brittle. Jules wheeled Bonnie over so that she was behind him, a little to the side. Bonnie reached forward and took Charlie’s hand. It looked like that helped some. But this put Jules in a position where I could see her face really well, and I kind of wished I couldn’t.

Carine and the rest of the Cullens were near the end of the line. We watched as they made their way slowly to the front. They were quick with my mom—they’d never met her before. Alex brought a chair up for my mom to sit in, and Phil thanked them; I wondered if Alex had seen that she was going to fall.

Carine spent more time with Charlie. I knew she was apologizing for Edythe’s absence, explaining that she’d been too distraught to come. This was more than just an excuse for Edythe to be with me today, it was laying groundwork for the next school year, when Edythe would continue to be so distraught that Esme would decide to homeschool her.

I watched as Bonnie and Jules left while Charlie was still talking to Carine. Bonnie threw a dark glance back at the Cullens, then suddenly stared in my direction.

Of course she couldn’t see us. I glanced around, trying to figure out what she was looking at. I realized that Eleanor was looking at us, too—she had no trouble spotting us, and she was trying very hard not to smile; Eleanor never took anything seriously. Bonnie must have wondered what Eleanor was staring at.

Bonnie looked away after a few seconds. She said something to Jules. They continued out to their car.

The Cullens left after the Blacks. The line dwindled, and finally my parents were free. Phil took my mom away quickly; the reverend gave them a ride. Charlie stayed alone while the funeral home employees filled the hole in. He didn’t watch. He sat in the chair that my mom had used and stared away to the north.

I felt my face working, trying to find the expression that went with my grief. My eyes were too dry; I blinked against the uncomfortable feeling. When I took my next breath, the air hitched out of my throat, like I was choking on it.

Edythe’s arms wrapped tight around my waist. I buried my face in her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Bella. I never wanted this for you.”

I just nodded.

We sat like that for a long time.

She nudged me when Charlie left, so I could watch him drive away.

“Do you want to go home?” she asked.

“Maybe in a little while.”

“All right.”

We stared at the mostly empty cemetery. It was starting to get darker. A few employees were cleaning up chairs and trash. One of them took away the big picture of me—my school picture from the beginning of junior year, back in Phoenix. I’d never liked that one much. I hardly recognized the girl with the uncertain blue eyes and the halfhearted smile. It was difficult to remember being her. Hard to imagine how she must have looked to Edythe, back in the beginning.

“You never wanted this for me,” I said slowly. “What did you want? How did you see things happening—going with the fact that I was always going to be in love with you?”

She sighed. “Best-case scenario? I hoped that… I would get strong enough that we could be together while you were human. That we could be… something more than just girlfriends. Someday, if you didn’t outgrow me, more than just wives. We wouldn’t be able to grow old together, but I would have stayed with you while you grew old. I would have been with you through all the years of your life.” She paused for a second. “And then, when your life was over… I wouldn’t have wanted to stay without you. I would have found a way to follow.”

She looked startled when I laughed. It wasn’t a very robust laugh, but I was surprised that it felt good.

“That was a really, really horrible idea,” I told her. “Can you imagine? When people thought I was your mom? Your  _ grandmother _ ? I’d probably get locked up.”

She smiled hesitantly. “That wouldn’t have bothered me. And if anyone had locked you up, I would have busted you out.”

“But you would have married me?” I asked. “Really?”

Now she smiled wider. “I still will. Alex’s seen it.”

I blinked a few times. “Wow. I’m… super flattered. You would really marry  _ me _ , Edythe?”

“Is that a proposal?”

I thought for half a second. “Sure. Sure it is. Will you?”

She threw her arms around me. “Of course I will. Whenever you want.”

“Wow,” I said again. I hugged her back, and kissed the top of her head. “I think I could have done better with the other version, though.”

She leaned back to look at me, and her face was sad again. “Any other way ended here, too.”

“But there could have been… a better goodbye.” I didn’t want to think about what my last words to Charlie were, but they were constantly on my mind. It was the biggest regret I had. I was glad the memory wasn’t sharp, and I only hoped it would fade more with time. “What if we  _ had _ gotten married? You know, graduated together, put in a few years at college, then had a great big wedding where we invited everyone we knew? Let them all see us happy together. Give really sappy speeches—have a reason to tell everyone how much we love them. Then go away again, back to school somewhere far away.…”

She sighed. “That sounds nice. But you end up with a double funeral in the end.”

“Maybe. Maybe we’d be really busy for a year, and when I’m a mature vampire and all under control, I could see them again.…”

“Riiiight,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And then all we have to worry about is never aging… and getting on the bad side of the Volturi.… I’m sure  _ that _ would end well.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. There’s no other version.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly again.

“Either way, though, Edythe. If I hadn’t been dumb enough to run off and meet that tracker”—she hissed, but I kept talking—“it would only have delayed things. We still end up here.  _ You’re _ the life I choose.”

She smiled—slowly at first, but then suddenly her smile was huge and dimpled. “It feels like my life never had a point until I found you. You’re the life I was waiting for.”

I took her face in my hands and kissed her while the branch swayed back and forth under us. I never could have imagined a life like this. There was a heavy price to pay, but one I would have chosen to pay even if I’d had all the time in the world to consider.

We both felt it when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

I figured it would be Eleanor, sarcastically wondering if we’d gotten lost on our way back, but then Edythe answered the phone, “Carine?”

She listened for just one second, her eyes flying open. I could hear Carine’s voice trilling at top speed on the other end. Edythe shoved off the branch, phone still in hand.

“I’m coming,” she promised as she fell toward the ground, breaking her fall with a branch here and there. I swung down quickly after her. She was already running when I hit the ground, and she didn’t slow for me to catch up.

It must be really serious.

I ran flat out, using all the extra strength that I had because I was new. It was enough to keep her in sight as she sprinted across the most direct route back to the house. I should have been faster than any mature vampire, but chasing her was like chasing a bolt of lightning.

It was only when we were close to the house that she let me catch up.

“Be careful,” she warned me. “We have visitors.”

And then she was off again. I pushed myself even harder to try to match her. I didn’t have a positive perception of  _ visitors _ . I didn’t want her to meet them without me next to her.

I could hear snarling before we were at the river. Edythe kept her leap low and straight, hurtling up the lawn. The metal shutters were down across the glass wall. She ran around the south end of the house. I was on her heels the whole way.

She darted over the railing onto the porch. All the Cullens were there, huddled into a tight, defensive cluster. Carine was a few steps in front of them, though I could tell no one was happy to have her there. She was leaning toward the steps, staring forward, a pleading look on her face. Edythe lunged to her side, and something snarled in the darkness in front of the house.

I launched myself onto the porch, and Eleanor yanked my arm back when I tried to go to Edythe.

“Let her translate,” Eleanor murmured.

Ready to rip out of her hands—not even Eleanor was strong enough to stop me while I was so young—I looked out past Carine to see the vampires we were facing. I’m not sure what I was expecting. A large group, maybe, since the Cullens seemed so defensive.

I wasn’t prepared to see three horse-sized  _ wolves _ .

They weren’t growling now—all of their massive heads were up, their noses pointing at me.

The one in the lead—pitch-black and larger than either of the others, though they were both three times bigger than I’d ever dreamed a wolf could get—took a step forward, his teeth bared.

“Sam,” Edythe said sharply. The wolf’s head swung around to face her. “You have no right to be here. We haven’t broken the treaty.”

The black monster-wolf snarled at her.

“They didn’t attack,” Carine said to Edythe. “I don’t know what they want.”

“They want us to leave. They were trying to drive you out.”

“But  _ why _ ?” Carine asked.

The wolves seemed to be listening intently to every word. Could they understand?

“They thought we broke the treaty—that we killed Bella.”

The big wolf growled, long and low. It sounded like a saw being dragged over chain-link.

“But—,” Carine began.

“Obviously,” Edythe answered before she could finish. “They still think we broke the treaty—that we chose to change Bella ourselves.”

Carine looked at the wolves. “I can promise you, that’s not how this happened.”

The one Edythe called Sam kept up the long growl. Flecks of saliva dripped from its exposed fangs.

“Bella,” Edythe murmured. “Can you tell them? They aren’t going to believe us.”

I’d been frozen solid this whole time. I tried to shake off the surprise as I moved to stand by Edythe.

“I don’t understand. What are they? What treaty are you talking about?” I whispered the words fast, but it was obvious from the wolves’ alert ears and watchful eyes that they were listening. Wolves that understood English? Eleanor had said Edythe was translating. Did she speak wolf?

“Bella,” Edythe said in a louder voice. “These are the Quileute wolves. You remember the story?”

“The—” I stared at the massive animals. “They’re  _ were _ wolves?”

The black wolf growled louder, but the dark brown one in the back blew out a funny huff that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Not exactly,” Edythe said. “A long time ago, we made a treaty with another pack leader. They think we’ve violated it. Can you tell them how you were transformed?”

“Uh, okay…” I looked at the black wolf, who seemed to be in charge. “I’m, uh, Bella Swan—”

“She knows who you are. You met Sam once—at the beach in La Push.”

_ She _ . The cloudy human memories distracted me for a short second. I remembered the tall woman at La Push. And Jules saying that the wolves were her sisters. That her great-great-grandmother had made a treaty with the cold ones.

“Oh,” I said.

“Just explain to her what happened.”

“Right.” I looked at the wolf again, trying to picture the tall woman somehow inside it. “Uh, a few weeks ago, there was a tracker—er, a vampire tracker—who came through here. He liked the way I smelled. The Cullens told him to back off. He left, but Edythe knew he was planning to try to kill me. I went back to Phoenix to hide out till the Cullens could… well, take care of him, you know. But the tracker figured out where I was and caught up to me. It was a game to him, a game with the Cullens—I was just a pawn. But he didn’t want to just kill me. He… I guess you could say he was playing with his food. The Cullens found me before he could kill me, but he’d already bitten me. Hey—do we still have the video?” I glanced over at Edythe, who was staring at the wolves. She shook her head. I turned back to Sam. “That’s too bad. The tracker was filming the whole thing. I could have shown you exactly what happened.”

The wolves looked at each other. Edythe’s eyes were narrowed as she concentrated on what they were thinking. Suddenly the black wolf was staring at her again.

“That’s acceptable,” Edythe said. “Where?”

The black wolf huffed, and then all three were backing away from the house. When they got to the edge of the trees, they turned and ran into the forest.

The Cullens all converged on Edythe.

“What happened?” Carine asked.

“They aren’t sure what to do,” Edythe said. “They were asked to clear us out. Sam is the actual chief of the tribe, but only in secret. She’s not a direct descendant of the chief we made a treaty with. They want us to talk to the acting chief, the true great-granddaughter of the last wolf-chief.”

“But—wouldn’t that be  _ Bonnie _ ?” I gasped.

Edythe looked at me. “Yes. They want to meet at a neutral location so that Bonnie can see you and make the call.”

“ _ See _ me? But I can’t get that close.…”

“You can do it, Bella,” Edythe said. “You’re the most rational newborn I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s true,” Carine agreed. “I’ve never seen someone adapt so easily. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a decade old.”

It wasn’t that I thought they were lying—just that maybe they didn’t get the magnitude of what they were proposing. “But it’s  _ Bonnie _ . She’s my dad’s best friend. What if I hurt her?”

“We’ll be there,” Eleanor said. “We won’t let you do anything stupid.”

“Actually…,” Edythe said.

Eleanor looked at her, shocked.

“They asked that we bring no more than their pack—only three. I already agreed. Bella has to be one, I have to be one, and the other needs to be Carine.”

It was clear Eleanor was hurt.

“Is that safe?” Esme asked.

Edythe shrugged. “It’s not an ambush.”

“Or they hadn’t decided to make it one. Not yet,” Jamie said.

They was standing protectively by Alex, and there was something wrong with Alex. They looked a little dazed.

“Alex?” I asked. I’d never seen them look like… like they were behind things instead of ahead of them.

“I didn’t see them,” Alex whispered. “I didn’t know they were coming. I can’t see now—I can’t see this meeting. It’s like it doesn’t exist.”

I could see that this was news only to me. The others had heard it before we’d arrived, and Edythe had already picked it out of their head.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” Edythe answered sharply. “And we don’t have time to figure it out now. We want to be there when they arrive. We don’t want them to have a chance to change their minds.”

“It will be fine,” Carine said to the others, her eyes on Esme. “The wolves are just trying to protect the people here. They’re heroes, not villains.”

“They think  _ we’re _ villains,” Rosalie pointed out. “Heroes or not, Carine, we still have to accept that they’re our enemies.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Carine whispered.

“And it doesn’t matter either way tonight,” Edythe said. “Tonight Bella needs to explain to Bonnie so that we don’t have to make the choice between leaving Forks and raising suspicions, or getting into a fight with three barely legal wolves who are just trying to protect their tribe.”

“Alex can’t see if you’ll be in danger,” Jamie reminded her.

“We’ll be fine. Bonnie won’t want to hurt Bella.”

“I’m not sure that’s true now. And I know she won’t have any problem watching  _ you _ get hurt.”

“I can hear the wolves just fine. They won’t take us by surprise.”

“Tell us where to go,” Eleanor said. “We’ll keep our distance and only come in if you call.”

“I promised. There’s no reason to go back on my word. We need them to see that they can trust us, now more than ever. No!” Edythe said as Jamie apparently thought of another argument. “We don’t have time. We’ll be back soon.”

Eleanor grumbled, but Edythe ignored her.

“Bella, Carine, let’s go.”

I took off after her, and I could hear Carine do the same. Edythe didn’t run as fast this time, and we both easily kept up.

“You seem very confident,” Carine said to Edythe.

“I got a good look at their minds. They don’t want this fight, either. There are eight of us. They know they won’t win if it comes to actual bloodshed.”

“It can’t. I won’t hurt them.”

“I’m not in disagreement with that. But it would cause problems, if we left now.”

“I know.”

I listened, but my thoughts were far away, thinking about Bonnie and Charlie and the fact that I should be nowhere near human beings right now. I’d heard plenty from the others about the newborn years, especially Jamie, and I wasn’t ready to try to be the first exception to the rule. Sure, I hadn’t had a hard time picking up most things, and everyone was surprised by how…  _ calm _ I was, but this was different. Edythe had been very careful to make sure I was never tested when it came to the most important thing—not killing anyone. And if I screwed up tonight, not only would I destroy my father’s world—he needed a friend now like he never had before—but I’d also ignite some kind of war between the Cullens and the giant werewolves.

I’d never felt clumsy in this new body, but suddenly that same sense of impending doom was hanging over me. Here was my chance to mess things up in a really spectacular way.

Edythe led us northeast. We crossed the freeway where it turned east toward Port Angeles and continued due north for a short time, following a smaller road. Edythe stopped in a wasteland on the side of the dark road, a large clearing recently made by loggers.

“Edythe, I don’t think I can do this.”

She took my hand. “We’re upwind. Carine and I will try to stop you if something happens. Just remember not to fight us.”

“What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt  _ you _ ?”

“Don’t panic, Bella, I know you can do this. Hold your breath. Run away if it gets bad.”

“But Edythe—”

She put her finger to her lips and stared southward.

It wasn’t long before a set of headlights turned into view.

I was expecting the car to pass. After all, the wolves wouldn’t even fit inside the little sedan. But it slowly came to a stop not far from where we waited, and I realized it was Bonnie inside, and someone else in the driver’s seat.

Then two of the wolves were there, coming from the forest on the other side of the road. They split to move around the car on either side; it looked protective. The woman in the driver’s seat got out and came around to get Bonnie. I was sure it wasn’t Sam, though her hair was just as short. I stared at her, wondering if I’d met her on the beach, too, but she didn’t look familiar. Like Sam, she was tall and looked strong.

Clearly she didn’t just  _ look _ strong. She picked Bonnie up in her arms and carried her like the older woman weighed nothing. Kind of like the way the Cullens had thrown me around as if I were a feather pillow. Maybe the wolves—because obviously this was the gray wolf who was missing from the original trio—were stronger than normal humans, too.

Sam and the dark brown wolf led the way as the tall woman carried Bonnie behind them. Sam stopped a good thirty yards away from where we stood.

“I can’t see as well as you,” I heard Bonnie say tartly. Sam prowled another ten yards forward.

“Hello, Bonnie,” Carine said.

“I can’t see, Paula,” Bonnie complained again. Her voice sounded rough and weak to me; I’d been listening to no one but vampires for a month. The half-wolf, half-human pack moved slowly forward until they were only ten yards away. I held my breath, even though the light wind still blew from behind me.

“Carine Cullen,” Bonnie said coldly. “I should have put it together sooner. It wasn’t till I saw you at the funeral that I realized what had happened.”

“But you were wrong,” Edythe said.

“That’s what Sam says,” Bonnie answered. “I’m not sure she’s right.” Bonnie’s eyes flickered to me, and she shuddered.

“All we have is Bella’s word and our own. Will you believe either?” Edythe asked.

Bonnie harrumphed, but didn’t answer.

“Please,” Carine said, and her voice was much kinder than either of the others’. “We’ve never hurt anyone here. We won’t start now. It would be better for us not to leave immediately, otherwise we would go without an argument.”

“You don’t want to look guilty,” Bonnie agreed sarcastically.

“No, we would rather not,” Carine said. “And in truth, we are not in breach.”

Bonnie looked at me. “Then where is Bella? Do you expect me to believe she’s inside that thing that bears some slight resemblance to her?” Hurt was strong in her voice, but so was hate. I was surprised by her reaction. Did I really seem so different? Like  _ I _ wasn’t even here?

“Bonnie, it’s me,” I said.

She winced at my voice.

I was out of air. I gripped Edythe’s hand and took a shallow breath. Still upwind, it was okay.

“I know I look and sound a little different, but I’m still  _ me _ , Bonnie.”

“So you say.”

I was breathing more freely now. I raised my free hand helplessly. “I don’t know how to convince you. What I told Sam was true—another vampire bit me. He would have killed me, too, except that the Cullens got there in time. They didn’t do anything wrong. They were always trying to protect me.”

“If they hadn’t gotten involved with you, this would never have happened! Charlie’s life wouldn’t be broken in pieces—you’d still be the girl I knew.”

I’d had this argument before, and I was prepared. “Bonnie, there’s something you didn’t know about me.… I used to smell  _ really _ good to vampires.”

She flinched.

“If the Cullens hadn’t been here, those other vampires would still have come to Forks. They might have killed more than me while they were here, but I can promise you, if Charlie had survived, he would be missing me just the same. And there would be nothing left of the girl you used to know. You might not be able to see it, but I’m still here, Bonnie.”

Bonnie shook her head, less angry, though, I thought. More sad. She looked at Carine. “I’ll concede that the treaty is intact. Will you tell me your plans?”

“We’ll stay here another year. We’ll leave after Edythe and Alex graduate. It will look natural that way.”

Bonnie nodded. “All right. We’ll wait. I apologize for our infraction tonight. I…” She sighed. “It was a mistake. I was… overwrought.”

“We understand,” Carine said softly. “There was no harm done. Maybe even some good. It’s better to understand each other as much as possible. Perhaps we could even talk again some—”

“The treaty is unbroken,” Bonnie said in a hard voice. “Don’t ask any more from us.”

Carine nodded once.

Bonnie looked at me again and her face fell.

The breeze shifted.

Edythe and Carine both grabbed my arms at the same time. Bonnie’s eyes went wide and then narrowed angrily. Sam snarled once.

“What are you doing to her?” Bonnie demanded.

“Protecting  _ you _ ,” Edythe snapped.

The dark brown wolf took a half-step forward.

I took a quick breath, preparing myself to run if it was bad.

It was bad.

Bonnie’s scent was like fire as it rushed down my throat, but it was more than just pain. It was a thousand times more appealing than any of the animals I’d hunted, not even in the same class. It was like someone waving a perfectly cooked filet mignon in front of me after I’d been living on stale crackers for a year. But more than that. I’d never tried drugs, but I thought Edythe’s heroin comparison might be the closer version.

And yet, while I wanted to quench my thirst… badly… I knew instantly that I didn’t  _ have _ to. I wouldn’t want to be any closer to her, no, but I was pretty sure I could handle it even then. I’d expected that when the newborn thing reared its ugly head, I wouldn’t be able to think or decide. That I wouldn’t be a person anymore, I’d be an animal.

I was still me. A very thirsty me, but me.

It only took half a second for me to figure all this out.

“No, don’t worry, Bonnie,” I said quickly. “I’m new to this, and they don’t want me to… lose it, you know? But I’m okay.”

Edythe slowly took her hand off my arm. Carine looked at me, her face kind of… awed.

Bonnie’s eyes were still narrowed, but I could see she was confused, too. She hadn’t expected me to act so much like myself, maybe. I decided to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity. I took another breath, and though it hurt just as badly, I knew I was fine.

“So it sounds like I won’t have a chance to talk to you again,” I said. “And I’m sorry it’s that way. I guess I don’t understand all the rules yet. But since you’re here, if I could just ask one favor…”

Her face got hard again. “What?”

“My dad.” My breath did that weird hitching thing again and I had to take a second before I could go on. Edythe put her hand on my back, but it was for comfort this time. “Please, just… take care of him? Don’t let him be alone too much. I never wanted to do this to him… or my mom. That’s the hardest part of all this. For me, it’s fine. I’m good. If only there was anything I could do to make it better for them, I would, but I can’t. Could you please watch out for him?”

Bonnie’s face went blank for a minute. I couldn’t read it. I wished I could hear like Edythe did.

“I would have done that regardless,” Bonnie finally said.

“I know. I couldn’t help asking, though. Do you think… you could let me know if there ever is something  _ I _ can do? You know, from behind the scenes?”

She nodded slowly. “I suppose there may be some of Bella left after all.”

I sighed. She was not going to believe it if I told her that all of me was left, that there was just more added on top.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I froze for a tenth of a second, surprised by the offer. I could tell Edythe and Carine were surprised, too. But there  _ was _ something more I wanted.

“If…,” I began. “Will you ever tell Jules about any of this?” I looked at the enormous wolves flanking Bonnie. “Or will it always be a secret?”

I didn’t understand the look that crossed her face now. “Jules will know soon enough.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, if she can know about me, can you tell her that I’m happy? It’s not so bad, this whole vampire thing.”

Bonnie shuddered. “I’ll tell her what you said.”

“Thanks, Bonnie.”

She nodded, then she looked at the tall girl carrying her and jerked her chin back the way they’d come.

As they turned, I saw a tear escape the corner of her eye. The wolves backed away from us, too.

I hoped it wasn’t the last time I would see Bonnie. I hoped that when Jules was in on the secret, I would be allowed to see her, too. Or at least talk to her again. I hoped that maybe someday the wolves would see that the Cullens were heroes, too.

Bonnie’s car drove away. The wolves melted into the trees. I waited until Edythe was done listening to their departure.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

She smiled. “I will when we get home—so I don’t have to repeat all of it. There was a lot.” She shook her head, like she was amazed.

We started running. Not so fast as before.

“Huh. Actual werewolves. This world is even weirder than I thought,” I said.

“Agreed,” Edythe said.

“That’s right—you thought there weren’t werewolves here anymore. That must have been kind of a shock.”

“They weren’t the most shocking thing I saw tonight.”

I looked at her, then at Carine. Carine smiled like she was in on some joke.

“I mean, I knew you were special, Bella, but that was something else back there. Jamie’s not going to believe it.”

“Oh. But…” I stared at her. “You said you knew I could do this.”

She dimpled. “Well, I was pretty sure the wind would hold steady.”

Carine laughed, then she exchanged a glance with Edythe. She sped up as Edythe slowed. In a second, we were alone.

I kept pace with Edythe, and stopped when she stopped. She put her hands on either side of my face.

“It’s been a long day. A hard one. But I want you to know that you’re extraordinary, and I love you.”

I pulled her tight against me. “I can handle anything as long as you’re with me.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Then here I will stay.”

“Forever,” I said.

“Forever,” she agreed.

I leaned in until my lips found hers.

Forever was going to be amazing.


End file.
